


The Nature of Kings

by Warg_Scout_Cookies



Series: The Nature of Kings [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Aromatherapy, Background Character Death (Bad Guys Only), Bathing Kink, Blood Drinking, Butterflies, Casual Sex, Epic battle, Fabulous Thranduil, Fluff, Hate, Humilation, Humor, Love, M/M, Multi, Non-consensual Teeth Brushing, Oral Sex, Past Relationships of Thror, Prostitution (Past Tense), Rape/Non-con Elements, Rare Pairings, Rimming, Secrets, Sibling Incest, Slavery, Smut, Stupid-Happy Ending, Thranduil's Scars, Threesomes M/M/M, Virginity Loss, sixty nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-02-12 02:16:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12949146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warg_Scout_Cookies/pseuds/Warg_Scout_Cookies
Summary: After risking his own life to save the hobbit from falling off a rainy cliff-side, the Dwarf King, Thorin Oakenshield angrily states that Bilbo has "no place" amongst them.  The company then seek shelter in a seemingly abandoned cave within the Misty Mountains, however, the hobbit has no intention of staying with them.*This story depicts the events that would have transpired if Bilbo had successfully left the cave.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not my characters.  
> Based on extended edition scenes from The Hobbit An Unexpected Journey.  
> IN THIS STORY:  
> *It was Galion who searched Fili in Mirkwood.  
> *Elrond does not have any children.  
> *Elrond's twin brother, Elros chose immortality and thus Numenor is a Kingdom of Elves- He has no wife or children either.  
> *Lindir and Figwit are brothers.  
> *Titles "Lord" and "King" are of equal status and may be used interchangeably.  
> *Elves have no body hair. Why? -Because they're too pretty for pubes.  
> *Bilbo never found The Ring.  
> *Tauriel does not exist. (No hate- her character just had no place in this particular story.) ...Okay, SOME hate... You know what?? --FUCK THAT BITCH!!!  
> ~~~*~ Please enjoy! ~*~~~

Thorin's harsh words had left Bilbo feeling useless and heartbroken. 

As the company hid in a cold, dark cave for the night, Bilbo decided that if Thorin didn't want him, at least he knew _someone_ who did.  Once he was sure all the dwarves were asleep, the hobbit tried to sneak away, but he'd forgotten about Bofur being on night watch.

Thorin silently looked on, feeling his heart sink at how badly he'd hurt the sweet, little hobbit.  But he would not dare beg the burglar to stay if Lord Elrond was who Bilbo wanted to be with.  He'd secretly witnessed their conversation on the balcony in Rivendell.  He saw the smitten looks they'd exchanged and heard Elrond's invitation for Bilbo to move in with him.  _'...After less than a less than a fucking day.'_

 

Thorin had already been resentful enough of the fact that he and the rest of the company had been forced to camp outside while the hobbit had been offered a luxurious suite to sleep in during their first night in the valley.  When he'd confronted Bilbo about it, the hobbit was nothing but apologetic, saying everything he could to assure Thorin that he wanted to stay with the dwarves. 

"Please, Thorin- I want to be with you... I mean... the company.  I was so very lonely last night."  (Truthfully, Bilbo hadn't slept more soundly since they'd first set about their quest.  As tempted as he'd been to accept Elrond's offer to stay, he could not in good faith break his written word to the dwarven company.)  

The Dwarf King had told Bilbo not to do him "any favors", but the hobbit seemed so genuine that Thorin thought maybe once they got to Erebor, he could tell Bilbo how he felt and they could rule under the Mountain, side by side.  Then later that same evening, he'd caught Bilbo away from the company and spying on Elrond as the elf and wizard argued in the courtyard.  Thorin had made sure the company (including Bilbo) were gone by sunrise without so much as a goodbye to the elves.

 

Now- here in the cave, Thorin could only hope that Bofur would be convincing enough to keep the hobbit with them, as his pride and shame prevented him from being able to do so himself.

Bofur tried his best to sympathize with Bilbo and make him feel like he belonged.  He'd even thought about telling him how badly he'd wanted him from the moment they met- how infatuated and intoxicated he'd been sheerly by the hobbit's scent alone...  For a brief instant, Bofur even contemplated kissing Bilbo.  But the dwarf knew that it wouldn't be fair to either of them, so he sincerely wished Bilbo all the luck in the world and fought back tears as he watched their burglar disappear out into the stormy night.

Thorin was just about to jump up and run after Bilbo to bring him back- by _force,_  if necessary, but then suddenly the ground beneath them opened up and swallowed the dwarves down into a fiery underground chasm. They were quickly surrounded by grotesque, little creatures who shuffled them off to be presented to their much larger Goblin King.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Bilbo had waited outside the cave for a few minutes to see if any of the dwarves cared enough to come after him, but not surprisingly, they didn't, so he strode onward in the hopes of finding his way back to Rivendell.  

The hobbit wasn't sure how long he'd been walking.  Bilbo did not know his way back to the valley and so considered turning back, only to realize that he was just as lost from that direction as well.  The night somehow seemed much darker than it had when he was in the company of the dwarves.  Only when the lightning flashed could he catch glimpses of the unfamiliar landscape surrounding him.  He felt as if he were being watched by creatures in the shadows.  His fear was beginning to escalate into sheer panic. 

That's when he heard it- the oncoming sound of hoof-beats, followed by the blow of an elven horn, filling the emptiness around him.  Bilbo's heart fluttered with relief and joy when he saw the torches flying toward him.  "Here!  I'm over here!" he shouted, as they drew swiftly closer.

Soon the hobbit found himself being approached by a gigantic, black steed with several other white ones close behind.

"These parts are not meant for a hobbit to travel alone at night..." said a voice so deep and soothing that Bilbo had never felt so comforted in all his life.  Elrond smiled down at the hobbit and asked him, "Would you like me to bring you back to your dwarven company, or to your home in the shire?  ...Of course my offer still stands for you to stay in Imladris. The choice is yours."

Bilbo took a deep breath, looked up, smiled, then confidently declared, "Take me home... with you."

A couple of the elves helped Bilbo up onto Elrond's horse, seating him snugly in front of the King.  Elrond wrapped his arms around the hobbit, reveling in the delicious scent which floated up from his tousled hair.  Naught but a moment later, the elves and hobbit were speeding off through the night, towards the last Homely House East of the Sea.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The dwarven company had been saved, once again at the last moment by none other than the elusive wizard.  He appeared in the Goblin Town and slayed the King just before any actual harm could befall them.  

Over time, this tended to be an on-going theme.  The company would be attacked by various foes and Gandalf was always their savior, making sure to keep the journey exciting by never helping the dwarves until absolutely necessary... Even when a giant, black bear tried to kill them, it was Gandalf who'd lead them to safety, only to find out that the home they were hiding in belonged to said bear. He'd then informed them that the bear was really a skin-changer named Beorn, who was sometimes a great, strong man who could be reasoned with.

Not until the next morning did the company meet Beorn in his human form.  The man was not in the mood to be reasoned with.  He did not like dwarves, or wizards... or anyone really.  He loved his animals for their pure souls and greatly valued his solitude.  But when he found out that the beautiful Dwarven King was being hunted by the same pale orc, who'd enslaved him for sex and killed off the rest of the skin-changers, his attitude changed drastically.

Beorn fed them breakfast, gave them all the warnings and advice he had and set them up with ponies and supplies.  

 

Soon the company were upon the gates of Mirkwood.  Gandalf had entered first to survey the level of danger the dwarves would be in.  When he saw some orcish graffiti on one of the sacred elven statues, but no actual _orcs_ \- the wizard determined that the dwarves would be fine to carry on without him.  Much to the company's protest, Gandalf instructed them to set the ponies loose and let them return to their master, while he kept his borrowed horse.  He emphatically told them not to leave the path, or they would never find it again.  "Elven lands are often enchanted... the forest is heavy with illusion- it will seek to enter your mind.  Stay on the path!"

Thorin could not believe Gandalf would leave them to face this treacherous forest alone, but at the same time, he knew the wizard would appear to save them if death was truly imminent. 

The homeland of Thorin's elven enemy was dark and sickly.  The dwarves' cognitive faculties were quickly deteriorating.  They soon found themselves standing at the edge of a deep ravine. "We've lost the path!" - "Find it!!!"

Thorin was desperate to get far away from this foul, horrible place.  The path seemed to be so close that they could practically feel it mocking them.  The strong, elven enchantment had the dwarves' heads swimming.  They were becoming increasingly confused and disoriented as they tried (to no avail) to navigate their way through the deadened trees. 

The longer they stayed in the forest, the worse their delirium became.  It was getting difficult to breathe and the dwarves were all arguing incoherently when they were suddenly attacked by a fleet of enormous spiders.  All the company were helpless to fight back as each dwarf was spun and encased in silk from head to toe before being dragged away.

Just before the spiders were able to get their prey up into the canopy, an elven troop descended down upon them.

Spiders were slashed apart by a flurry of flying daggers, arrows and thrusting swords.  With the hideous monsters defeated, the dwarves struggled to free themselves from their silken-bindings.  They were ready to fight against the wood elves until they realized they were even more outnumbered than they'd been by the spiders.  The elves surrounded the dwarves with bows drawn and arrows aimed.

The blonde elf was clearly the one in charge.  He had breathtakingly beautiful eyes of unearthly azure.   _'The son of Thranduil... no doubt,'_  thought Thorin as he stood his ground.  The fact that the dwarves were able to form coherent thoughts at all meant that the presence of the elves had lifted the fog from their minds.  They were all thinking the same thing, although none of them would dare admit it out loud.  The young elf did not hold the same icy crystal gaze that the Elf King possessed, but he was irritatingly gorgeous.  

Under his orders, the elves began searching the dwarves and stripping them of their weaponry.  When the tall blonde opened up a compact with pictures of Gloin's wife and son, he insulted the dwarf by asking if his wife was his brother and his son "some kind of goblin-mutant."

Fili could not help but stare up at the statuesque male who searched his body ever-so thoroughly. 

Galion, the King's personal butler and guard tried not to get lost in the surprisingly attractive dwarf's elven-like blue eyes.

Fili kept his eyes locked defiantly onto the elf's, even when he slid his hands down both the front and back of Fili's trousers.

 

The elves lead the dwarves to the palace and locked each one in a dungeon cell, some of them in pairs.  The elf in charge of Fili had found one last weapon he'd missed before, in his clouded state of lust.  He took it and pushed the dwarf into the cell, then slammed the heavily barred doors, which locked automatically.

Legolas had been trying not to stare at Kili, but the young brunette dwarf had the nerve to smile at him from inside his cell.  The Elf Prince approached the dwarf, unsure exactly what he would say.  Whatever it was, it would have to be a believable insult and he didn't seem able to come up with any at the moment.

It was Kili who spoke first "Wouldn't you like to search me yourself?... one Prince to another?"  That's when Legolas knew for sure that this dwarf was an heir to the line of Durin- Thorin's nephew.  _'No wonder he's so... less ugly'_ , thought the elf to himself. (Not wanting to acknowledge his wild attraction to the smaller Prince.)

"I could have anything down my trousers..." teased Kili as he smiled sweetly, up at Legolas.  The elf thought briefly about making some kind of comment about penis-size, but then quickly realized it would have been much too cliche.  Instead of talking at all, Legolas sneered as he reached his long arms through the dungeon-door and shoved his hands down the back of Kili's pants, pulling him forward to slam into the bars in front of him.  He held the dwarf firmly in place as he squeezed Kili's lean, toned cheeks hard enough to leave bruises.  Kili gasped, but made no attempt to move or fight back.

Legolas' body pressed hard against the other side of the cell-door.  He could feel Kili's cock stiffening between the bars as the dwarf rolled his hips against the elf's thigh.  Legolas kept his left hand on Kili's ass and brought the right one around to the front of Kili's trousers.  He gripped both of the young Prince's balls in his large hand and squeezed them just tightly enough to make Kili whimper in surprise.

The Dwarven Prince's lips grew lush and his eyes glazed over, pupils dark and dilated.  Legolas' expression stayed as cold as ever as he allowed his hand to move upward over Kili's hard cock.  The dwarf moaned softly as he felt the Elf Prince's long, smooth fingers encircle his throbbing shaft.  Legolas slowly let his grip slide all the way up Kili's astonishingly impressive length until he reached the round, velvety head.  He traced his index finger over the cum-slicked slit at the very tip and squeezed with his palm, eliciting another drop of pre-cum from the trembling dwarf.

Kili moaned once more, only louder and much raspier with need.  Legolas decided that was enough for now.  He felt his own desire overtaking him and did not want to draw attention from the elven guards who stood dangerously close by.  He withdrew his hands, turned his back and walked calmly away, trying not to let his physical arousal catch anyone's attention.

Galion had kept his back turned, but was fully aware of what his Prince had done.  "Was that one as well-endowed as the blonde?" he asked with a smirk and a wink.

Legolas stopped in his tracks and shot Galion a look of warning, which clearly translated to,  _'Don't fuck with me, or I'll have you in the cell beside him!'_

Galion laughed as he watched the Prince strut off down the long, narrow bridge.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Meanwhile, King Thranduil had been informed of the dwarven prisoners.  He took his time preparing himself to meet with the leader of the unexpected intruders.  It had been quite some time since Thranduil had seen Thorin Oakenshield and he wanted to present himself with utmost elegance and regality. (Not that he didn't _always_ exude grace and power, but this was different because the Dwarf King had never seemed impressed by Thranduil's prowess.)

He dabbed some sweet and spicy scented oil over his pulse points, combed his long, silky, platinum tresses to perfection and made sure all of his jewelry sparkled and shined brilliantly.  The King donned his favorite autumn robe.  It was a glittering blend of silver and gold baroque fabric, which flowed down his tall frame like liquid-metal.  His dramatically long cloak was the same mottled tone with a bright coppery lining that shone like fire in contrast to it's icy exterior.

Thranduil quite liked the way the metallic tones set off the pale colors of his skin, hair and eyes- adding the perfect aura to his cool and confident demeanor.  The effect was topped-off by an enchanted natural crown of woven branches which rose up high behind the King's head.  It was carefully decorated with red fern leaves and autumn berries.  The blending of nature with opulence was a style Thranduil had down to fine art.  He enjoyed and appreciated the contrast of these elements and the way they highlighted one another's nuances.

Once he was ready, the Elf King positioned himself in a hedonistically casual pose upon his grand, decadently built throne of carved wooden branches.  The gigantic elk horns on either side gave off a sense of nobility and intimidation.  Thranduil had always admired them for that reason...

He loosely gripped his well-manicured,  jewel adorned fingers around his long, vine-wood staff and commanded his guards; "Bring me the Dwarf King."

 

The dwarven company had made their attempts to break free, only to realize it was futile.  Thorin and Balin discussed the idea of making some sort of deal with the Elf King.  They were determined to get out of this dungeon but Thorin would not compromise his dignity when it came to Thranduil, of all people.

Even in the midst of his fury, Thorin's mind drifted back to Bilbo Baggins... _'The halfling who couldn't handle the quest.  The contract-breaker...'_ Sometimes the dwarf felt extreme bitterness towards Bilbo, other times he felt nothing but his own shame and guilt.  He often wondered if the hobbit was alive or dead- If he'd even survived his first night alone in the wild.  The chances were unlikely.  Thorin pushed the troubling thoughts out of his head and went back to his present concern for he and his company.

Naught but a moment later, two elven guards arrived and roughly yanked Thorin out of his cell.  They dragged him away to the openly spaced area in which stood Thranduil's proud throne.  Thranduil sat there, like a _'royal dick'_ as he looked down his nose at the Dwarf King. 

The immaculately groomed Elf King strode down the steps leading from his throne to confront the dirty, disheveled dwarf, who's hair and clothing were still covered in spider webs.  

Thorin stood firm, unwilling to be wavered by Thranduil.  He had never been this physically close to the elf as to gain an accurate sense of just how tall this King truly stood.  He would not be intimidated.  He breathed in deeply, inhaling delicate aromas of orange, clove and lavender.  It was sinfully intoxicating- a fact Thorin refused to acknowledge to himself, let alone the elf.

Thranduil stalked around him like a predatory feline. -Graceful, powerful- _deadly._   Thorin was hesitant to look the Elf King in the eyes for a brief moment before forcing his gaze upwards, causing two different shades of sea-colored eyes to collide in a death-lock with one another.  Thranduil sensed Thorin's brooding hostility.  He decided to turn on the charm.

Thorin's conviction yielded at Thranduil's mention of the Arkenstone.  He quickly recovered himself as the elf went on to speak of things which he _too_ desired within the mountain.  "White gems, of pure starlight... I offer you my help," purred Thranduil as he closed his eyes seductively.

The Dwarf King's voice was raspy and deep as he answered with a sly smile.  "I am listening..."

As Thranduil offered his help to the dwarves for the payment of the gems he believed were his already, Thorin realized that he was a fool to have even considered the possibility that he could ever trust Thranduil.

"You have my word... from one King to another," the elf had said.  That was the last straw for Thorin.  Composure be damned- he let loose and told Thranduil in a deep, booming voice that he would seek NO help from those who'd turned their backs once before.  He shouted in Khuzdul at the Elf King about how merciless the dragon's fire had been upon his kingdom.

A nerve had been struck within Thranduil.  Quickly, he whipped around, appearing suddenly and menacingly within inches of Thorin's face, surrounding the Dwarf King with his lust-inducing scent, captivating him, even against his own will.  

For a split-second Thorin wondered if Thranduil was about to kiss him.  His head tilted slightly to the side while his lips parted of their own accord, before he could catch himself.  He could practically _taste_ the elf's sweet, minty breath.  Reflexively, he licked his lips as Thranduil moved in closer.

"Do not speak to me of dragon's fire!!!" growled Thranduil.  His voice deepened, becoming cracked and breathy as he continued on. "I have faced the great serpents of the north!"  The elf's eyes fluttered closed as he spoke, causing him to both look and sound almost as if he were having an orgasm.

Then the left side of his face began to deteriorate before Thorin's very eyes.  The Elf King's flesh melted away as if being eaten by acid, revealing the tendons and scarlet muscle tissue beneath.  His eye went milky-white as the corrosion spread.  Then as the King stepped back, his face quickly returned to it's previously perfect appearance.

 _'A glamour... that is typical...'_ thought Thorin of the deceptive Elven King, certain that the scars were no more than a mere parlor trick.  He already knew the elf was low- but to use magic in order to try and persuade him to hand over his precious gems was beyond reproach. 

Thranduil saw that the Dwarf King was unwilling to co-operate, so he told him what he thought of Thorin's family, invited him to stay and rot, then dismissed him in an aristocratic hand gesture.

 

Once Elros, the captain of the guards had made a snide little show of locking Thorin back in his cell, Balin questioned how it went.  Thorin said in dwarfish that he had told the King to "go fuck himself and die."  Balin as well as the other dwarves were all crushed.  "A deal was our only hope..." lamented the white-bearded dwarf.

Thorin left out the part when Thranduil had replied to him "I prefer to fuck _you_ and live forever!"  The dwarf remained silent for the rest of the night as he hopelessly wondered how they would possibly escape.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no!!! With no Invisibilbo to save them, how will the dwarves ever get out of the dungeon?!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not My Characters. (But they are my slaves!)

A week and a half had gone by with each day seeming longer than the last. The dwarves felt betrayed by the wandering wizard. They figured if Gandalf was going to help them, he would have done so by now. Time passed slowly and miserably as they sat in their cells with nothing to do but think about how quickly Durin's Day was approaching.

Kili sat quietly, tossing a rune-carved, labradorite pebble up and down. He and Fili's mother had given them each one for protection on their quest. Kili's mind was distracted, thinking about the Elf Prince, wondering if he was ever going to come back- when the pebble got away from him. It tumbled down into a deep cavern, clinking against columns and tree roots until finally, the echoing sound faded off into oblivion.

Fili made a joke about his brother being reckless while Kili's heart sank, along with the stone. He was sure he was going to die. Tears fell silently down his cheeks as he cried himself to sleep. 

When he woke, his pebble was right by his side, on the floor of the cell. The Dwarf Prince was overjoyed.  "We're going to be alright!"

The rest of the company were very happy for Kili, but also perplexed and somewhat suspicious.  Kili didn't care how he'd gotten it back, he saw it as nothing but a good omen.

 

Unfortunately, nothing changed for the dwarves as time continued to pass.  Twice a day, the prisoners were served rations of stale bread and stagnant water with the occasional addition of limp greens or molded cheese.

"We've made due with less, laddie," said Balin, trying to stay positive for the sake of the Dwarf King.  Thorin only grunted in response.  His anger and hostility had driven him to the point of continual silence, unless he was shouting something derogatory about Thranduil.

 

A few nights later, Fili whispered as he reached through the bars of his cell, "Pass it around, make sure it gets to Thorin..."

"Where did you get _this?! " _ shrieked Nori as he carefully took the bottle of wine from the young Prince.

"Shhhhh! Don't worry about that, just take a drink and pass it...quickly!"

Nori questioned no further.  He took a hearty swig, then stretched his arm out to pass it to Dori.

"It's got quite a soft finish," commented the silver-haired dwarf as he handed it over to Dwalin.

By the time the bottle reached Thorin it was still half full.  Bofur had told him, "We've all had a taste, the rest is for our King."  Thorin took two swigs and passed it back to Bofur, insisting, "All gains are to be shared equally amongst us."

The rest of the company each took one more drink before the empty bottle was hidden away by Fili.

 

The next evening, the empty bottle was taken from Fili and replaced by two full ones. 

"Thank you... guard."

"Please, call me Galion. And think nothing of it..."

He turned to walk away, but stopped when the dwarf spoke.

"Fili."

"Excuse me?" beckoned Galion, not knowing what this strange word was supposed to mean.

"My name is Fili...  First heir to he throne of Durin."

Galion smiled and moaned in delight.  "Mmmm, a High Prince?"  Then he quickly disappeared into the labyrinth that was Mirkwood.  He returned a short while later with two more bottles of wine and a satchel filled with fresh fruits, fine cheeses, slices of smoked meat and warm, freshly baked bread.

"Galion, why are you doing this for us?" questioned Fili with big, blue eyes so sincere, they made the butler's heart melt.  He answered the dwarf quietly, so the others could not hear him.  "I've done absolutely nothing and I have no idea what you are talking about.  You do not know my name and I do not know yours."

The elf winked at Fili, then left before the dwarf could say anything else.  He found Elros and talked him into joining him in the wine cellar, so the dwarves would have time to eat and drink without being bothered.  Galion could not deny that he had a soft spot for the short, blonde Prince... and one very _hard_ spot as well.

 

"Well what was that, now??" asked Oin curiously.

Fili laughed and stated "That was a very drunk and stupid elf!" trying to make it sound like he'd somehow manipulated Galion into doing their bidding. 

The dwarves cheered merrily as they passed around the delicious food and drink. Even Thorin's spirits had been lifted enough for him to join in some relatively pleasant conversation with his company.  They talked about the fact that it did not _have_ to be Durin's day for them to enter the mountain.  " If we have a map that tells us where to look and we have the key- then between the thirteen of us, surely we can find a fucking key-hole!"

For the next few nights, Galion continued to sneak supplies to the dwarves until one evening when he was summoned along with Feren to escort Thorin to Thranduil's chambers.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Galion knew better than to question the word of the King.  The dwarves would just have to wait or go without tonight as he could not risk being found-out.  He was sure Thranduil would have his head if he were caught feeding and flirting with a dwarf, so dutifully- he did as he was told.

Flanked by the elven guards, Thorin was forcibly removed from his cell and lead the long, winding distance to a tall, intricately carved set of double doors. 

"Why are you taking my here?" asked the dwarf, not even knowing exactly where "here" was.

The elves ignored the question and knocked on the ominous-looking doors.  When they opened to reveal the magnificence of the chamber within, Thorin was mesmerized by the draping silks which surrounded a plush, pillow-laden bed and all the other fine furnishings which were topped and surrounded by sparkling treasures.  Crystal chalices and jewel encrusted boxes stood alongside pots of living orchids, ferns and birds of paradise flowers from Thranduil's greenhouse.  A large fire place blazed brightly on the far side from the foot of the bed, while dozens of white candles glowed all around the room, bathing everything Thorin could see in a warm, golden ambiance.

Then Thranduil appeared out from the other side of the doors, sending chills down Thorin's spine.  He'd commanded Galion and Feren to stand watch outside his chambers until he had finished his "negotiations" with the Dwarf King before yanking Thorin inside and locking the doors behind them.

"Why have you bought me here?!"

"Uuhck!" scoffed Thranduil in disgust.  "I cannot possibly be expected to tolerate such a... foul smelling... _creature_ in my presence!"

Thorin glared hatefully at his captor.  "Well, I apologize if I am not up to your high standards... Being trapped like a rat in a cold, dark dungeon for weeks tends to have a rather displeasing affect on one's personal hygiene."

Thranduil scoffed again.  "Take off your clothes" he said ever so nonchalantly as he flicked his wrist at Thorin.                                                                   

"WHAT?!" growled the Dwarf King in shock and horror. 

Thranduil lowered his face so close to Thorin's that he could feel the heat radiating off his body.  He repeated himself much more aggressively.  "Take off you clothes or I WILL _RIP_ THEM OFF YOUR BODY!"

Thorin begrudgingly complied.  Once he was completely naked, he held his stance proudly, not wanting to give Thranduil the satisfaction of seeing him openly humiliated.

The Elf King brazenly eyed every inch of Thorin's bare flesh, making no effort to curb his critique.  "Hmmm... Quite impressive..." said Thranduil as his eyes settled on the splendor of Thorin's thick cock.  "...For a _dwarf,_ I suppose."  He continued to pace around Thorin for a moment, taking in the view of his body from every angle.  "Go in there..." he commanded as he pointed to an adjoining chamber, which was veiled off by a sheer, white curtain.

When Thorin had reluctantly entered, he saw a huge, malachite bathtub filled with aromatic water which floated up into soft swirls of steam, filling Thorin's every inhale with the clean, warm scent of his immortal enemy.

Thranduil sighed and repeated his words about not being able to tolerate Thorin's filth, but the dwarf was still hesitant, so Thranduil ordered him more harshly, "GET in the TUB, you malodorous _swine!_   DO NOT make me tell you again or you will find yourself drowned in it!"

The Dwarf King complied and slowly climbed into the pond-sized vessel.  His muscles twitched and his joints popped in response to the drastic change in temperature.  For so long, he'd bathed only in cold rivers, or as of _late_ \- with only a dirty rag accompanied by a small bucket of brown, sulfuric well-water.

This was his first proper bath since months ago, in Rivendell.  Back then, he'd been offered the use of a private bathing chamber, while the rest of the company (minus Bilbo, of course) splashed around, naked in a large outdoor fountain.  Thorin had not known who the chamber belonged to, but the entire time he was in it, he was never able to fully relax due to an innate sense of being watched.

 

Elrond's butler, Lindir had relished in his Lord's request to allow Thorin the usage of his bath. (Although he'd pretended to object.)  He watched carefully from around an artfully carved stone column as the Dwarven King stripped his body bare of the thick furs and leathers, which covered his exquisite physique.  Lindir had never seen anyone with body hair before and was utterly fascinated by it.  Thorin's stout muscles were also very new and intriguing to to elf.  He'd watched on, the entire time never once having taken his hand away from his own cock.

 

Now the feeling of being watched was all-too-prominent for Thorin as _this_ elf made no attempt to avert his gaze or hide his opinions of what he saw.  But within a very short time, he was finding himself lulled into a state of dreamy relaxation by the swirling of the hot, clean water.

"Do not think for one moment, that this is for your enjoyment- dwarf.  I simply cannot stand the stench of you," spat the Elf King as he strode up behind Thorin and dumped a pitcher of water over his thick, dark hair.

Thranduil shoved a bright, blue, glass bottle in Thorin's face and laughed sarcastically when the Dwarven King so-cautiously took it from him as if it were going to burn him or something. 

Thorin loosened the crystal lid and sniffed the contents of the bottle before handing it back to Thranduil.  That's when he noticed that the elf had removed his own robes and was completely bare-chested.  Quickly, he shot his gaze back downward toward the swirling water below.

"Uuugh- no wonder your race stinks so badly," scoffed Thranduil as he emptied a palm-full of the thick, pearly-peach substance into his hand.

Thorin did not have time to object before two, very large elven hands worked their way into his sopping-wet hair.  The richly perfumed lather built up quickly within the dwarf's matted mane.  The scent was the same as that which permeated around Thranduil and it made Thorin feel sick to his stomach.  Then, the fact that Thranduil was touching his _hair,_  his sacred _dwarven hair_\- had the King ready to lash out in rage.

"Do not dare think of trying to fight me- _slave!"  _ stated the Elf King, as if he were somehow able to pull the thoughts strait out of Thorin's brain.

The dwarf shrugged in defeat and closed his eyes as Thranduil continued to meticulously wash his hair.  After a few moments, the elf's touch became lighter and much more detail-oriented, carefully removing the remaining bits of metal filigree from Thorin's thick tresses.  His nimble fingers had the braids loosened and unraveled before Thorin even knew what was happening.

The Dwarf King's pain and exhaustion were catching up to him and whether he liked it or not- his body clung to every nurturing sensation it was receiving.  Thranduil's hands massaging his scalp, along with the intense heat of the water and it's soothing aroma had Thorin feeling dizzy and light-headed.  Not since his arrival into these lands had he felt such spiraling confusion.

Realizing as much, his hand had instinctively shot up out of the water and gripped onto Thranduil's wrist. 

Not but an instant later, Thorin felt one strong, elven hand clasped tightly upon his throat while the other splashed downward to constrict around the dwarf's hardening cock.  Thranduil slid his tongue like a snake along the edge of Thorin's ear and squeezed harder before whispering, "Try that again and I will have you _dismembered."_  

Thorin clasped his hands over the elven one around his throat, only to have them seized by Thranduil.  The Elf King jerked Thorin's hands forward and inspected them closely.  "Hmph- If I did not know better, I'd swear I was clutching the claws of Smaug, himself."

"Do not DARE speak that name to me!" snapped Thorin as he ripped his hands away from Thranduil's, splashing them back down into the water in an _'amusingly child-like_ _way'_ \- observed Thranduil.  His response to Thorin's outburst was, "Tilt your head back and close your eyes- unless of course, you _want_ it to sting..."

Thorin had bathed his nephews hundreds of times, as if they were his own children and was very familiar with the routine, although now, he found himself on the other side of it.  Clearly, Thranduil was now administering the same techniques he'd practiced with Legolas and Thorin did not appreciate being demeaned in such a way.  But he did as instructed and let the elf rinse the shampoo from his hair. 

Afterwards, Thorin could not stop himself from asking, "What are you doing _now?!_ What is _that? _ "  

Thranduil answered harshly as his hands worked gently.  "You are such a brute! Have you never heard of hair-conditioner?!  This mop is tangled up into a raven's nest!"  After coating the dwarf's hair with a rich cream of the same extracts of his other autumn-scented bath products, Thranduil twisted Thorin's hair up into a top-knot and pinned it securely.

Thorin had finally resigned himself to keeping silent.  Whatever the Elf King was going to do to him in that moment was certainly not as bad as what he'd first anticipated.  At least his back bore no whiplashes... rather it felt better _now,_ than it had in a very long time- and his hair was being _cleaned_ as opposed to _cut_.  His eyes, teeth, fingers and toes were all still intact and he felt if Thranduil had any intention of changing that, he would have given some kind of indication by now.

Then the elf said something that made Thorin's head spin.  "Give me your hand."

Surely Thorin couldn't have heard that right... _'The Elf King would never possibly beckon for-'_

"Your _hand_ \- give it to me, NOW!" demanded Thranduil as he plucked Thorin's left hand out from under the water and closely gazed at it with disgust.  "Filthy, overgrown, under-groomed talons!"

Another unsolicited scoff from Thranduil and Thorin would be ready to strangle him with his overworked, underprivileged hands.  But instead he gritted his teeth and remained silent.  He sat still, face sour and bemused as Thranduil proceeded to scrape, poke, prod, clip, file and buff each and every one of the dwarf's fingernails until they were all clear, smooth and shiny.

Once he was done, the elf inspected his work and said, " _Much_ better... although I can't say I care much for your crude taste in jewelry."  He interlocked his fingers with Thorin's and scoffed.  "My rings are _far_ more precious than any of yours... do you not agree?" he asked, admiring their contrasting styles.  When Thorin didn't answer, Thranduil laughed and dropped the dwarf's hand as if it were something putrid.

 

Thorin had hoped against hope that the worst part of the ordeal was over with, only to realize that the torture had just begun.  His breath hitched when he felt the Elf King's long, well-toned arms embrace him from behind in a tentacle-like grip.  Thranduil's hands were strong and insistent.  He ran a slick bar of orange, clove and lavender infused soap all up and down Thorin's arms and torso with one hand, whilst the other massaged deeply into the flesh immediately following the soap's slippery trail.

Several times, Thorin had to hold his breath in order to maintain what shreds of dignity he had left.  Thranduil may have had the power to force him into submission, but Thorin knew he could not be forced into _liking_ it.

...No, he _'hated this!'_ Hated every smooth touch and tender caress- even the softly whispered words into his ear would not be enough to break the Dwarven King.

"You enjoy being treated like royalty, don't you, my _slave?"_   Thranduil washed the warm water over Thorin's throat with both hands as he waited for a response.

Thorin closed his eyes and gulped down his last remaining bit of pride.  "Yes, my... _King."_   He choked on the words as they were forced passed his lips, shamefully bowing his head forward.

With the dwarf's neck bent downward, Thranduil had access to begin washing his back.  Thorin soon found himself submitting entirely as he unconsciously moaned and grunted at the feel of the Elf King's hands kneading his sore muscles.  "Aaahh- _Uugh-_ Yes! - _MMNNGH!!!"_   

Thranduil smiled coyly to himself as he worked decades-old knots loose and soothed several pinched nerves.  He adjusted joints, ribs and vertebrae until they were all lined up just as they should be.

The Dwarf King's involuntarily-felt bliss proved to be very short lived.  Thranduil's next words hit him like a hammer to an anvil.

"Stand up."

He knew damn well what those words entailed.  The same words he used to say to his nephews just before the end of their bath. -Only _that,_ had never bared any sort of sexual connotation nor was it meant in any way to humiliate them.  This was _ highly _ different- Thorin knew Thranduil was about to be given unfettered access to his entire body and would certainly take every advantage he had over the vulnerable dwarf.

Terrifyingly aware of his rock-hard arousal, (which he was _certain_  had been caused by some sort if evil, elven enchantment,) Thorin stood up out of the water as proudly as he would have, fully robed and crowned before all of his kingdom.

With an expertly frozen poker-face, Thranduil washed his soapy hands up and down Thorin's thickly muscled legs.  He marveled, lustfully at such coarse and copious body hair.  "You are more beast, than man," snorted the elf.  -Not since his rendezvous with Thror, Thorin's grandfather, had he experienced such an utterly  _male_ body.  Electric fire surged through Thranduil's veins as he compared the way the two dwarves looked, felt and responded to his touch.

Only, Throrhad never needed any prompting, nor threats.  That Dwarven King had always _craved_ royal Elf cock.  Thranduil would have been a fool not to oblige.  After all, it did earn him some of his most valued treasures, including the pale, chrysoprase jewel which he displayed, haughtily upon his index finger to this very day.  _'But Thorin needn't_ _know that much...'_  he'd deduced.

After running his hands up and down Thorin's thighs a few more times than necessary, he caressed his splayed fingers over the dwarf's hard, round ass, gripping it painfully tight.  

Thorin instantly thought of about a thousand snide remarks he could have made about the Elf King's perverted nature, but instead he bit down on his lower lip and squinted his eyes shut.  He bit down harder when he felt the slip of Thranduil's hand up the length of his cock while the other hand delicately rolled each of his balls around.  

In a flash, the sensation was gone, having been replaced by a flood of warm water over his exposed flesh.  Thranduil unpinned Thorin's hair and rinsed it clean before taking the dwarf's hand and leading him out of the brilliant, green tub.  He wrapped Thorin up in a thick, luxurious bathrobe which was _'adorably, much too-large'_  on the dwarf's stout frame.

The fabric was softer than anything Thorin had ever felt before.  He was much more comfortable now that his nudity was no longer on display- no matter how ill-fitting the garment was.  But then the degradation continued as Thranduil proceeded to wrap his hair with a towel and twist it up into a turban on top of his head.  "Oh I suppose you're accustomed to simply shaking off like a beast?"

Thorin shot the Elf King a look of sheer hatred, forced himself to smile and calmly replied, "Actually... I am much more inclined to let my hair and body be dried, naturally beneath the hot sun."

Thranduil responded just as Thorin had intended.  A quick shudder, along with the momentary bat of those long, dark eyelashes let Thorin know that the elf did _indeed_ have a chink in his metaphorical armor.  He shifted himself to Thorin's back.  The Dwarf King stood still, waiting for Thranduil's next move.

He found it in the form of his hair being released from the towel followed by a painful tug.  His bravado shattered.  "How _DARE_ you?! A Dwarf's hair is NOT to be-  OWW!!!"

"Quiet- SLAVE! Now stand still, or this will be _much_ more painful for you."

Thorin grumbled under his breath in Khuzdul as he kept his stance firm and let Thranduil comb his damp hair.  He'd always waited until it was dry before brushing it, but he would soon find that it dried in less than half the time after being all combed-out.  The elf had been rough at first, but as Thorin calmed down, he meticulously worked out each and every one of Thorin's numerous tangles, whilst continuously muttering insults about the dwarf, just as he'd done throughout the duration of Thorin's manicure.

Afterwards, the Dwarf King was feeling all but defeated as he was lead to a malachite counter, topped by a moonstone-carved wash basin which shone with ethereal light, seeming to glow from within, reminding Thorin of his beloved Arkenstone.  Thranduil let a cool trickle of water flow over a small brush before applying a minty-smelling white paste to the tips of the bristles.

"Open your mouth" commanded Thranduil as he held the brush less than an inch away from the dwarf's pursed lips.

Thorin growled in disapproval.  "I think I am capable of brushing my own teeth!"

Thranduil's fingers closed around the Dwarven Kings face, forcing his jaws to part.  "I _said_ \- OPEN YOUR MOUTH!!!"

Thorin felt very strange and surreal, standing there, having the King of Mirkwood brush his teeth for him.  He was not quite sure which one of them should be feeling more humility at the moment.  Surely it was meant for Thorin, but at the same time- he could not imagine Thranduil giving _this_ kind of attention to anyone else... except maybe for Legolas when he was an elfling.

His thoughts had been extremely accurate: Thranduil had not bathed or nurtured anyone since his Prince was still young enough to allow it without protest.

"Now, rinse... gargle... spit-  _Good_ slave!" said Thranduil in his sickeningly condescending way.

Soon, Thorin felt the warm fabric of the gigantic robe being whooshed away from his body, leaving him fully exposed once more.  He winced as he watched Thranduil select a bottle of oil from the collection upon the counter top.  It was red glass which was swirled with shimmering golden designs around the outside and topped with a solid-gold lid.  As soon as he opened it, Thorin smelled the same light combination of scents as the soap and shampoo.

"Your really should take better care of you skin," huffed the Elf King as he emptied a small amount of oil into his palm.

Thorin wanted to scream. -Fruity smelling bath products were not exactly on his list of priorities.  

After setting the bottle down, Thranduil used his oil-free hand to grasp Thorin's.

The Dwarf King's eyes snapped shut at the sight of his own hand being placed over he Elf King's smooth, bare chest.  "Now doesn't _this_ feel better than that cracked, leathery hide of _yours?"_

Thorin groaned as his hand slid down Thranduil's silken skin- soft as a rose petal beneath his thickly calloused palm.  He held his breath and kept his eyes closed as the elf slowly lead his hand from one pectoral to the next- then down over lean, taught stomach muscles.

"Well?" asked Thranduil, impatiently as he released Thorin's hand, letting it drop, unceremoniously to the dwarf's side with a pleasing smack.

Thorin opened his eyes and met the Elf King's icy gaze.  "My skin cannot be compared to that of an _elf's_.  I actually _work_ for a living."

Thranduil rubbed the oil with both hands over Thorin's shoulders as he whispered, "Oh, your work has not yet begun, my dear _slave."_  

Thorin's eyes closed once again at the feel of Thranduil's large hands touching all over his naked body for the second time.  The oil seemed to heat up as it came into contact with Thorin's flesh.  Everywhere Thranduil put his hands instantly became warm and tingly.  Thorin wasn't sure if it was the oil, it's self or the elf's enchanted touch that was causing his skin to react in such a way.  He realized his skin wasn't the only thing responding as he felt his cock twitch with anticipation.

Thranduil silently ran his hands all over Thorin's shoulders and arms, taking care to keep the oil away from his nearly-dry hair.  He took his time, taking in the look and feel of the dwarf's every muscle as each one tensed and quivered beneath his touch.  He crouched down, low so his eyes were level with Thorin's well-defined, hair-covered chest.  The elf's hands followed his gaze as he continuously moved them lower down the dwarf's hard body.  He did not intend on missing one inch of Thorin's dry, thirsty flesh.

Thorin could feel Thranduil's eyes on him just as strongly as he felt his roaming hands.  He hated giving the Elf King the satisfaction of seeing how much he was physically enjoying the sensations he'd wanted absolutely no part of.

"Mmmm..." hummed Thranduil softly as he stared brazenly at Thorin's thickening erection.  His own cock was hard and throbbing within his leggings, aching with desire for the Dwarven King.  He took Thorin's shaft in his hand while he rose slightly up to eye-level with the dwarf, nearly enveloping him, while his other hand clasped onto the back of Thorin's neck.  "Look at me, slave!"

Thorin's eyes shot open and he stared defiantly at Thranduil's unreadable expression.  He cringed each time Thranduil used that horrible word.  His mind had flashed back to his days as a young Prince, working in Laketown.  His faithful "business associate" had always made sure he would never be taken as a slave each time he serviced a new "client."  Then he remembered what Beorn had told him about having been Azog's slave.  "Not for work..." the skin-changer had clarified.  Thorin and the others needed no further explanation, seeing as how Beorn was completely physically intact.  Still the giant had gone on to elaborate on how the "defiler" was amused by caging and torturing him, which had made Thorin feel sick to his stomach.  Now it seemed as though he would suffer the same fate.  _' Thranduil, the defiler...'_  he thought to himself as the elf closed in on his loins.

"Do you enjoy the feel of my hands on your body?" asked Thranduil in a deep, breathy voice as his slippery hand squeezed Thorin's hard cock and began stroking up an down.

Thorin's breath hitched as his mind struggled to form any sort of coherent thought.  Thranduil's touch became harder and his pace increased.  Thorin gasped when the elf harshly repeated his question with his lips and teeth ghosting over the dwarf's ear.

Thorin's voice was gravelly and broken as he reluctantly told Thranduil, "Yes, my King... please,  _please_... don't stop."

Then suddenly Thranduil's hands left Thorin's body as he stood strait up and walked out of the bathing chamber without a word, or even so much as one of his signature scoffs.

The Dwarf King was perplexed. He thought he'd said what Thranduil had wanted to hear.  He didn't know if he should stay where he was, or if he was to follow the Elf King.  Without realizing it, he found one of his hands on his chest and the other around his own cock.  He snapped back to reality when he realized how different his skin felt.  It was soft, supple and very pleasant to touch, but Thorin did not want to allow the elf that much power over him.  Quickly he dropped his hands to his sides and stood there- frightened, naked and unsure of his next actions.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not My Characters.

"Is my slave ready to report for duty?"

Thorin took a deep, shaky breath before exiting the bathing chamber to follow the sound of Thranduil's deep voice.  He gasped when he saw the Elf King stretched out on the bed with his completely nude body glowing in the light of the surrounding candles.

Thranduil was posed provocatively on his side with one hand propping up his head, while the other stroked lightly over the extended length of his smooth, hard cock.  "Your'e not a very bright slave, are you? Do you not understand what your role is in this scenario?"

Thorin took a few steps closer to the bed while he _thought_ of bolting out the door.  But with no clothing or weapons, he was much too vulnerable and he knew that at least two guards stood watch outside the doors.

"It's not as if I've had you brought to my personal chambers to receive a _spa-treatment..._ That was merely a necessitated preliminary," said Thranduil, almost laughing before he took a lengthy sip of deep, red wine from and elegant, crystal chalice.

Thorin's stomach fluttered in what he'd convinced himself was disgust as he climbed onto the enormous bed and sat beside Thranduil.

The Elf King's eyes glinted with firelight and smirk played across his face as he asked; "Would you like a taste of my wine?  I assure you my _private_ selection is far more refined than the swill my butler has been smuggling to you."  Thorin's stunned expression made Thranduil laugh out loud.  "You think I don't know what goes on in my own Kingdom? At least Galion has the decency to be discreet about it..."  He trailed off as he took another sip of his wine.  Immediately afterward, he sat the stemware down on the bedside table to the opposite side of Thorin, far from the dwarf's reach.

Thorin was confused.  "I thought you wanted me to taste it."

Thranduil said nothing as he rolled over, on top of Thorin and pressed his mouth firmly over the Dwarf King's.  His tongue sought entrance and Thorin was powerless but to comply.  The elf's long, lean body blanketed the dwarf's stout, muscular frame as his kiss became deeper and _much_ more possessive.

Thorin could't believe what was happening to him, nor did he understand why his own arms were reaching around to embrace Thranduil's body, pulling him down even closer.  The Dwarf King wished he could stop- he did not want to be sucking the Elf King's sweet-tasting tongue deeper into his mouth, or enjoying the feel of their hard cocks sliding against one another's bodies.  Whatever kind of enchantment this was- was much to strong for Thorin to fight.  He moaned into the kiss just before Thranduil pulled his mouth away, but stayed on top of him.

"So?  How does it taste?"

It took Thorin just a moment to realize that Thranduil was asking about the wine. (Which the lingering taste of- was _indeed_ much better than the guard's.)  "Most exquisite... your Majesty," panted the dwarf- hoping that was the right answer. 

Thranduil moved his body upward, towering on his knees above Thorin as he straddled the Dwarf King's torso.  "Well I hope you enjoy the taste of _this_ just as much..."  He let the tip of his long cock brush over Thorin's soft lips and traced it around the edges, enjoying the feel of the dwarf's beard scratching against the silken head of his arousal.  The elf equally enjoyed the look of panic and horror in Thorin's eyes, savoring the image and letting it fuel his carnal lust.

Thorin stilled, feeling utterly trapped.  He knew he would be violently forced if he did not give the Elf King what he wanted, but he couldn't handle the sickness he would have to live with afterwards if he were to willingly suck his enemy's cock.  He'd long since hated this King just as much as he hated Smaug and Azog.  Now his hatred burned with more fury and wrath than he ever knew was possible.  Thorin's eyes blazed up at Thranduil's as he slowly parted his lips. 

"Your'e going to have to open your mouth _much_ wider than that if you are going to take _me_ in it," said Thranduil with a twisted smile as he pushed the thick head of his cock past Thorin's lips.

The instant the Dwarf King felt Thranduil's dick on his tongue, he pulled his head back and turned away in repugnance.

Thranduil's smile dropped and the amusement abruptly faded from his eyes.  He grabbed onto Thorin's head with both hands and forcefully turned it back around to face him.  "You are my _SLAVE_  - and YOU WILL SUCK MY COCK! Whether you want it or _not!!!"_

Thorin didn't _want_ to want it- that was the problem, but the elf had gotten into his mind, which was far worse than claiming in his body.

Thranduil held him in place, gripping onto the dwarf's hair and pulling his head back as he yanked Thorin's beard down, forcing his mouth wide open.  Thranduil shoved his cock deep down into the Dwarf King's throat and began thrusting harshly, causing Thorin to choke and gasp for breath. 

Thorin's eyes watered as his throat contracted and convulsed around the Elf King's immense phallus.

Thranduil loved the feel of Thorin's beard on his balls as the dwarf gagged on his extensive length.  _Thror_ had never choked or gagged. He swallowed it down and _loved_ it- just as his grandson would be _forced_ to do.

The helpless dwarf tried to escape out from under the Elf king, but Thranduil had him pinned in a way that enabled Thorin to do little more than kick his feet like a crying child.  He struggled to gain traction on the satin sheets, only to find himself that much more ensnared by the elf's clutches.

Thranduil had become increasingly brutal, reveling in the Dwarf King's futile attempts at fighting him. He knew anyone else would covet the chance to suck his magnificent, Kingly cock, but the fact that Thorin didn't want to- (or at least _acted_ like he didn't) conjured a very enticing element of irony.  "You know you _love_ my cock in your mouth", purred Thranduil.  

The Elf King's taunts had Thorin's limbs flailing as he desperately tried to free himself.  He kicked as hard as he could, with his arms constantly reaching for the elf's throat or trying to push his hips away from his face, unaware that his struggles only served to fuel the elf's desire.  

Thranduil pinned him harder and forced his cock so far down Thorin's throat that for a moment the Dwarven King honestly thought he might die.  Thorin finally gave in and relaxed his muscles in an effort to stay alive for the sake of Erebor.  His instincts and experience came into play as he breathed steadily though his nose while working his lips and tongue around Thranduil's long, thick cock, sucking hard in undulating waves of wet pops and slurps as his hands gripped firmly onto Thranduil's ass.  

The Elf King tilted his head back in sheer bliss.  "Mmm... You _do_ love my cock in your mouth."

"Mmm-hmm," hummed Thorin around the elf's girth, hoping it might make this malefaction be done with a bit sooner.

Thranduil groaned loudly at the dwarf's unexpected admittance of pleasure.  He allowed himself the luxury of Thorin's surprisingly talented mouth for nearly half-an-hour longer, every so often pausing between deep breaths to ask or tell Thorin things that would provoke certain responses.  He would both compliment and insult the Dwarf King at the same time.  He would physically be both rough and gentle, slamming his cock down Thorin's throat while stroking his fingers lovingly through the dwarf's newly washed and dried hair.

Thorin just kept doing what Thranduil wanted for as long as it would take for the elf to be finished with him.  He just wanted to get back to the safety of his cell and far away from this malevolent Elven King.  He tried to speed things along by taking Thranduil's smooth balls in his mouth, one by one- sucking them lightly as he rolled them around with his tongue. (Something he _never_ did with his clients in Laketown.)  Then he once again took the elf's hard length in his mouth and down his throat. (That part, he had once been quite accustomed to doing- although never with one of _this_ size nor for this amount of time.)

The Elf King gasped and moaned as his hand reached behind him to grip Thorin's thick, veiny shaft.  His expert hand worked Thorin's cock until it threatened to explode. (Something _else_ Thorin's clients had never done...)  He released the dwarf's dick and moved his hand to trace his fingers around Thorin's dripping-wet, cock-stuffed lips.

Sufficiently coated in saliva, Thranduil reached back once again, only this time his hand moved down, even lower.  Quickly two of his fingers surged upward into Thorin's tight hole.

"Hhhmmph- _mmm!!!"_ groaned Thorin around the elf's cock- trying to protest against the unwanted trespass into his body.  But since he was unable to speak, scream or move- the Dwarven King could only try to endure until it was over.  The sudden shock of Thranduil's long fingers penetrating him made Thorin feel weak and dizzy.  It had been nearly sixty years since his body had invaded in such a way and was no longer used to being breached, yet his mind easily found it's way back to the mentality he once had, long ago when he did what he had to do for his people.

Thranduil worked Thorin's asshole thoroughly, getting his slave ready to be fucked and _used_ like the property he was.  After a few minutes, he pulled his fingers out of the dwarf's ass while removing his cock from his mouth.

Thorin's jaw ached and his mind struggled for composure.  His eyes blinked open and closed as he felt Thranduil's weight lift off of him.  Before he could catch his breath, his body was being wrestled over until he was face-down on all fours.  Thranduil draped his body over Thorin's from behind and wrapped his arm around his waist- keeping the Dwarf King in place.  He licked his way up the dwarf's neck to his ear and softly hissed "Are you prepared to take your King... SLAVE?!"

Thorin let his head fall forward, surrounding his face in his own foreign-smelling hair. _'I must do this for the company... For Erebor...'_   he thought to himself, knowing there was no one to protect him- no way to escape what was about to happen to him.

Then it was happening-  Thranduil's cock pressed against Thorin's clenched hole until it popped open, allowing for deeper entry.

Thorin held his breath, trying not to scream as his body was violated by the sadistic Elf King.  He tried not to make so much as a sound- no inclination of pain, nor pleasure as he focused his thoughts solely on his Kingdom.

Thranduil plunged deeper into the warm, smooth channel of the Dwarven King.  "Your body belongs to ME now!- _Nnngh!_ \- You are mine for the taking!" snarled the elf into Thorin's soft, clean hair as he sank his cock in far enough for the front of his balls to grind against the back of Thorin's.

The dwarf muffled his whimpers, sobs and grunts into one of the many pillows surrounding them.

Thranduil was enticed and encouraged by the sounds Thorin made.  He savagely pumped his cock in and out of his helpless little slave.  _"Rrrrghh!!_ Yes!  Take it! -Take it like a King!"  He continued pounding Thorin's ass harder and harder, never failing to hit that sweetly sensitive spot hidden deep within Thorin's body. (Something the men of Laketown _certainly_ never did.)  His hand wrapped around Thorin's cock and began stroking it furiously in rhythm with his thrusts into the dwarf's bucking body.

As much as Thorin had tried not to, he found himself responding to the Elf King's touch and was soon coming hard into Thranduil's hand.  

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Outside the King's doors, Galion and Feren had become increasingly aroused by the sounds they'd been hearing.

"I cannot say that I blame him- the Dwarf King is rather... intriguing," admitted Galion.  In his tipsy state of mind, he went on to say; "However I am personally more fond of the eldest Prince... his eyes are quite _alluring."_  

"Yes, I have seen just how _lured_ you are by the dwarfling- sneaking wine and food into his cell!"

"Aah!- I would never!"

"I can't say I fancy dwarves myself, they're too short.  They're all big noses and battle scars- too much facial hair for me..."

"Hmm, so what _do_ you prefer?"

"I would be much more inclined to an _elven_ touch..." whispered Feren as his hand brushed over Galion's smooth cheek.

"Ever the corrupting influence you are" replied Galion while his lips moved to catch Feren's fingertips.

"I do believe you have that backwards..."

Just as Galion's hand started to rub the bulge beneath Feren's thin leggings, they were interrupted by Elros.  "You two are supposed to be on duty!" 

"And just where are _you_ supposed to be?' asked Galion with a smirk, while Feren looked away, shyly- not wishing to divulge any unnecessary in information with his lustful gaze. 

"I am on break, if you must know. Trust that the prisoners are well guarded in my absence."

"By whom?!"

"By the Prince, himself... At his insistence, I am not to return until the moon reaches it's next hour."

"Mm, most riveting... I wonder what Legolas would want with such a lowly task?"

"Perhaps he fancies himself a consort, such as our King has."

"Have you two been drinking on duty?" 

Galion and Feren laughed as Elros reached his arm around the butler's waist.

"That's what I thought" said the keeper of the keys as he held up the half-empty bottle of wine.  "I could have you thrown in the cells for this."  He then, took a swig from the bottle and licked his lips seductively.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Back in the dungeon, Kili sat against the wall of his cell, talking to Legolas and thanking him for the dozenth time for the hot meal, fresh linens, clean water, soap and medicinal herbs brought to them all by the Elven Prince.  

Legolas cared-not for the dwarven company, he only wanted to make Kili happy and he knew the best way to do so, was to give them all generous rations in the hopes of gaining the Dwarf Prince's trust.  He'd originally been hoping for a fun, lustful encounter, but Kili was much too worried about his uncle to want anything to do with sex.  Legolas did his best to comfort him by stroking his hair and assuring the dwarf that Thorin was in no danger, but seeing how fragile and broken the young Prince had become took all thoughts of his own desires far from the elf's mind.

"One way or another, I will see you freed along with the rest of your kin.  But for now, just try to hold onto that pebble of yours.  I should hate having to retrieve it for you once again."

Kili smiled brightly at Legolas and whispered something in Khuzdul whilst reaching his hand out, to touch Legolas' face when Elros suddenly came marching down the steps to resume his guard duty.  

The Elf Prince snapped up immediately, thankful that the guard did not appear to be in the sharpest mind-set.

"You smell of wine" said Legolas.

"You smell of dwarf" replied Elros, boldly.

Legolas ignored the guard and silently left the dungeon.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Within the lavishly furnished King's chambers, Thorin felt completely disgusted with himself.  He felt defiled and defeated.  His body had been filled to capacity by the Elf King's cock pumping him full with cum, but to Thorin that was not nearly as bad as having been forced to come, himself. (Twice.)  He hated himself for it.  The Dwarf King had never felt so used and pathetic in all his life.  Even when he was taking men's cocks every night for pay- he was never treated like a _slave_.  The then-Prince had learned quickly how to move and what to say, in order to make it as brief as possible- oftentimes earning himself some extra coins or gems in the process, but not once did any of them have the power to force an orgasm from the dwarf.

Not that any of the men who'd fucked Thorin had been gentle, but the Elf King had been rough and relentless beyond anything Thorin had ever experienced before.  The hand-shaped bruises all over his body would be a reminder for weeks of what he'd been forced to do.

Adding insult to injury, Thranduil had asked "So, was that good for you, slave?"

Thorin wanted to punch himself in the gut as he shamefully nodded his head.

Thranduil smiled wickedly before kissing his slave hard and deep.  Afterwards he wrapped a red, satin robe around himself and strode over to the chamber doors.  He slightly opened one, blocking the exit with his body, lest Thorin try to escape.

The Dwarf King sat on the plush bed, waiting for his next punishment.  A few minutes later a knock came and Thranduil opened the door once again.

 

"Uugh, I had meant something more along the lines of basic... _slave_ attire."

"Shall I bring something else, your Majesty?"

Thranduil scoffed at his butler as he took the clothing and shut the door.

 

"Put this on... I'll not have your clean skin soiled by your previous rags."

Thorin held up a beautiful and extravagant elven robe. (Obviously belonging to an adolescent as it was very close to the dwarf's size.)  It was the leggings that had Thorin most unhappy.  But he put them on, along with the long, lightweight boots, tunic and robe.  The leggings were a little too long and the boots pinched his toes, but the rest fit well enough, so he chose not to complain.

 _"Much_ better... but your hair is a  mess\- and after all the work I've put into fixing it for you!- Still you show such disrespect to your King," spat Thranduil as he walked a full circle around Thorin.

When Thorin grumbled angrily, Thranduil laughed in delight as he grabbed a silver hair-brush from the top of his dresser.  He ran it easily through the dwarf's thick mane.  Once he was finished, Thorin's hair was smoother and shinier than it ever had been before.  The Elf King styled the dwarf's hair with intricate, elven braids- knowing it would keep Thorin thinking about him in the lengthy amount of time it would take for his thick fingers to tediously unweave them, later on.

"What do you think, quite and improvement- no?" asked Thranduil as he adjusted the angle of the large, swiveling mirror to allow Thorin a view of his own reflection.

Thorin was stunned to see himself looking like some strange, hybrid combination of dwarf and elf.  "I look like a woman," growled the Dwarf King.

Thranduil chuckled loudly.  "Well, you are my little _bitch_ , aren't you?"

Thorin seethed with rage.  Soon the dwarf found himself being lead to the doors and taken away by the two standing guards who had brought him there.

Thranduil did not look back as he closed the doors to his chambers to be alone for the rest of the night.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Ooh, don't you look lovely?" cooed Galion.  "Do you like it?  I picked it out from the Prince's old wardrobe."

Thorin remained silent.

Galion and Feren laughed, and began conversing as if Thorin were not even there, while they lead him the long way back to the dungeon.

"I never realized our king had such a taste for _dwarves."_

"I suppose it is a step up from the Lord of Imladris' choice in play-things..."

"Indeed, however Elrond's hobbit is _no_ slave."

"Why he would ever take a halfling for his King, I will never understand."

"Elrond was born half-human, perhaps that could account for his... _tendencies!"_

The elves laughed merrily, while Thorin could not believe what he was hearing.  "Bilbo.." he whispered without thought.

"What was that now?" asked the more loquacious of the two guards.

The Dwarf King authoritatively demanded an answer. "Tell me- where did you hear this?!"

The semi-drunk elves simply laughed once more as they put him back in his cell before going over to talk to Elros.

 

"Uncle Thorin!"- " Are you alright?!"- "What happened?"- "What's that smell?"- "What are you wearing?"- "Is he going to let us go?" stammered Fili and Kili.

Thorin did not answer.  He turned his back to the company and laid down on the cold, stone floor, trying not to think about Elf Kings or a possible Hobbit King.  His body had never felt so clean yet so tainted at the same time.  Exhausted and abused, Thorin fell asleep to the sound of the dwarve's soft humming and singing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *To know more about Thorin's whorin' days, please read my spin-off story: [The Nature of Men](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12909039/chapters/29492172)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my characters.

Over the course of the next few days, Thorin silently brooded with a mixture of thoughts and emotions.  He was extremely glad Thranduil had not called upon him again, yet he had the conflicted notion of possibly being able to _'earn a few privileges for his company- maybe even their eventual freedom,'_  even if it meant he would have to sacrifice himself in the process.

At least since his encounter with Thranduil, the dwarves had been upgraded to having clean water to drink and bathe in, along with (blessedly) unscented soap, toothbrushes and toothpaste.

 

The other dwarves began to fear the worst for their King when they heard the guard's whispering about Thranduil's "dwarven concubine."  Though, they knew better than to question Thorin about it.

The only thing Thorin spoke of at all was the rumor he'd heard about Bilbo having been wed to Elrond.  Bofur in particular had very happy to hear that the hobbit he was once so fond of, was alive and well- yet they all found the news shocking and very strange.  Thorin assured them it couldn't possibly be true, even though deep-down he honestly felt like it was.  Not that he was _jealous_ \- he was just angry at the fact that he and his noble company had been taken as prisoners while Bilbo- _'the contract-breaker, had become a fucking King.'  _Nothing about it was fair.

Galion continued to bring them food and drink, but Legolas kept his distance until he knew his father would once again be preoccupied with his own dwarf.

Thorin no longer questioned when Galion bought them things.  He'd realized that the guard/butler was genuinely interested in Fili- a fact he certainly did _not_ approve of.  But he felt grateful and proud that his nephew had been savvy enough to smile sweetly and bat his eyes at the elf, then after the guard left, the company (including Fili) would all laugh about how stupid he was. It was the only thing they had to look forward to at the end of the day, although Thorin had shown little interest in food, since being raped by the Elf King.  He'd lied to the others and said he was fine, but the Dwarf King could feel his body rapidly beginning to weaken with each passing day.  

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was mid-afternoon, when Thorin was taken once again from his cell.  He had not seen Thranduil in nearly a week and was _not_   looking forward to this.  His stomach was tied up in knots as he was lead down an ominously familiar path of long bridges and bright, sunlit passage ways.

"Oh, don't look so pitiful," said Galion.  "You should feel honored. Thranduil never allows _anyone_ in his chambers... except, of course, for the Prince."

Thorin had not been quite sure what to make of that comment, so he chose to ignore it.  He gritted his teeth as Feren tapped lightly on one of the towering doors to the King's room.  At least he knew what to expect this time and was determined not to be broken by it.  He felt as if he might pass out as he entered into the bedroom of Thranduil.

 

The moment the doors closed, the flood of insults began.  "Not even one week and look how filthy you are!  -And after my generous supply of bathing essentials... Your hair is nothing short of revolting, and you stink as if you've just crawled out of a troll cave!  How _dare_ you enter into my chambers reeking of such... dwarvish fetor?!"

Thorin mustered up as much pride as he could before answering, "If you wish for me to be all clean and pretty for you, then I _suggest_ not keeping me locked-up in a GOD-FORSAKEN TOMB!!!"

Thranduil whipped his head around like a snake and lowered his face eye-level to Thorin's, within such close proximity they could feel each other's body heat.  Thorin held his breath as the Elf King spoke.  

"Hmmm... you bring up a _very_ good point..."  He moved away, pulling the long, shimmery train of his robe across the polished quartz floor behind him.  "...From now on- _this_ will be your cell.  You will not be permitted to leave here, unless escorted by me, personally.  This arrangement is permanent... at least until you die or I have you killed.  Do you understand, _slave?"_

Thorin's overwhelming instinct was to shout and fight in protest, but he forced himself to stay quiet and bow his head in submission- having no doubts that he'd just played right into the Elf King's trap.

"Gooood... Now lets get you more presentable, shall we?" the elf drawled out, venomously as he ran the back of his knuckles over Thorin's cheek and beard.

 

Upon entering the bath chamber, Thranduil began stripping Thorin's borrowed clothing off, piece-by-piece.  Once the Dwarven King was completely naked, Thranduil took a moment to admire the color changing bruises which coated the dwarf's stout physique, but he was displeased with Thorin's slackened muscle tone.  He sneered, "You must eat more... I do not like to see my slave's ribs."  He then presented his own fully robbed body to Thorin and said, "Well..? Does a _King_ not deserve as much consideration as a _slave?"_

Thorin rolled his eyes and began tediously unbuttoning the Elf King's long robe, having to reach up high to unfasten the golden clasp at the collar.  He had to crouch, low in order to pull Thranduil's boots and leggings off, causing the elf's half-hard cock to bob around teasingly close to his face.  He did his best to avert his eyes away from the wicked appendage which was purposefully taunting him.

"Would you like to suck on it again?" asked Thranduil as if he were doing Thorin some kind of favor.

The Dwarf King shuddered before taking Thranduil's hardening cock in his hand and swirling his tongue over the fleshy, round head.

The Elf King hummed in approval, letting his hands fall down onto Thorin's tangled hair.

Thorin began sucking hard, while taking Thranduil's smooth, upturned cock deep down his throat, the way he knew the elf liked.

"Oooh! What an eager, little slave!" groaned Thranduil before pulling Thorin's mouth off of him with a wet pop.  "I know you _worship_ my cock, but there is no need to be over-zealous when we've got all night... _every_ night."

Thranduil's words chilled Thorin to the bones.  He knew he'd have to find some way to free himself and his kin from this dark, evil Kingdom before it was too late.

The elf smiled as he drank in the look of overwhelming terror which had quickly overtaken Thorin's face.  He held back his laughter as he stepped gracefully into the large bathtub, one long leg at a time.  Once comfortably seated, he scoffed and asked, "Must I instruct your every movement, you insipid, little creature?!"

Thorin begrudgingly stepped into the bath to join the Elf King.  Picturing being treated this way- by _this_ King- in _these_ chambers- day and night for god-knows how long, was making Thorin's head spin and his heart sink.  He wanted to be as far away from Thranduil as possible, but instead, he forced himself to do the exact opposite and straddled his thighs over the elf's lap, leaning his body firmly against Thranduil's smooth, flat chest.  He began kissing the Elf King's neck, hoping he would not be punished for doing so.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he still thought that if he played his cards right, he would be allowed to return to his cell again.  He could not fathom otherwise.

Thranduil wrapped his arms around Thorin, causing the spring-heated water to whoosh rhythmically in expanding ripples across their skin like shock waves of aquatic lust.  He pulled Thorin's face up to meet his own in a fiery kiss of pure, wanton hunger. He rocked his hips upward, sliding his cock up between Thorin's ass cheeks.  -Even though, he'd planned on saving the sex for later-  _clearly,_ his slave was in desperate need of being fucked.

The fragrant water was slicked with bath oils, which made for a most luxurious entry into the Dwarf King's tightly muscled body.

Thorin grunted and winced as Thranduil's cock slid slowly up inside him.  He allowed the elf to guide his pace, trying to learn exactly how Thranduil wanted him to move as he rode his massive cock, with their wet bodies sliding languidly against one another's. 

Thranduil adored the feel of Thorin's thick body hair brashly rubbing into his own creamy flesh.  Even Thorin's grandfather- (as lascivious as he'd been) never displayed such artful skill and beauty. 

Thorin swiveled his hips back and forward, taking in as much of the Elf King as could be given to him.  He moved his mouth and body every way possible to make this nightmare end so he could be reunited with his fellow dwarves and come up with a plan for them all to escape and reclaim their rightful homeland.  _'For Erebor...'_   he thought as he splashed up and down onto Thranduil's cock.  As thoughts of his own throne continued to haunt his mind, Thorin's pace quickened- desperately wanting for Thranduil to come, and be done with him for the night.

The Elf King could not help but wonder just how Thorin got so amazingly good at fucking.  He'd wanted the experience to last even longer than last time, but the way the dwarf moved his body was proving to be too much to resist.  He held his slave tightly with one arm, whilst using his free hand to manipulate Thorin's exceedingly hard cock into release.

Soon the Dwarf King was practically screaming as Thranduil pulsed jet-after-jet of thick, hot cum deep into his ass.

The two King's shivered in each other's arms for a few moments, despite the warmth of the water surrounding them.  Then, Thranduil carefully lifted Thorin off of his cock and cradled him closely, almost as if the dwarf were his own, frightened child.  He stroked Thorin's hair as he whispered deeply against his ear, "You still stink of the dungeon, now turn around so that I may wash that foul-smelling mop of yours."

Having hoped his pain and humiliation would be over, Thorin now realized that his long night with the Elf King was only just beginning- and the sun had not even begun to set.  He tried to push all thoughts and emotions from his mind as he forced himself to go completely numb.

 

Thranduil shampooed, rinsed, conditioned and pinned Thorin's thick, dark hair just as skillfully as he'd done the first time, only now, he was much more gentle about it, since the dwarf had put up no fight.  

The sickeningly intoxicating scent was all-too familiar to the Dwarf King.  He would have easily vomited had there been anything in his stomach to expel.  

Naught but a moment later, things got even worse when Thranduil had said, "I trust you know what to do by _now_... Even if you are just a primitive sub-species, surely it cannot be _that_ difficult to figure out."  He handed Thorin a pitcher of water, along with the cobalt bottle, then turned his back to the dwarf.

As the Dwarf King slowly began to pour the water, Thranduil tilted his head back like a swan for Thorin to wet his hair. 

Thorin was absolutely terrified of doing something wrong, so he worked as gingerly as he could to massage the shampoo into the elf's delicately-stranded hair with his thick, calloused fingers.  He tried to imitate the way Thranduil moved his hands- which was _very_ different than what he was used to.  When Thorin washed his own hair, there was never time, nor commodities for such careful treatment, and when he'd washed his nephews' hair as dwarflings, it had always been such a struggle just to keep them still and not fighting with one another, that he found he currently had almost no idea what he was doing.

Thorin handled Thranduil's hair as if it were more precious than the Arkenstone.  After only a few moments, Thorin found himself lost in the feel of those long, silky, smooth stands of almost white-gold, flowing like liquid, through his stout fingers.

If ever there were two things dwarves coveted, it was gold and _hair_.  Thorin carefully rinsed the shampoo away before replacing it with the contents of the purple, glass bottle.

Thranduil's arched back and soft moans let Thorin know that at least he was not performing too displeasingly.  And a performance it _was_ \- he would never subject himself to such torture, if it were not for the sake of his Kingdom.  He hated this King, more than anyone else in Middle Earth- But that _hair_... Thranduil's fine, platinum locks were beginning to hypnotize Thorin.  Suddenly, without thought, his lips blurted out something that made him want to drown himself.  

"Such splendor and magnificence... _so beautiful..._ "  Quickly he cut himself off, feeling mortified and disgusted by his own whispered words.  Silently, he secured Thranduil's hair with an identical pair of three-pronged ivory pins as to the ones which held his own. 

 _'So fucking cute!'_   Thranduil thought to himself of the dwarf's clumsy efforts at finer grooming habits.  Not since his own son was a tiny, little elfling, wanting to "play with Ada's pretty hair," did Thranduil feel such a sense of endearment.  

"You will need much practice if you are to be worthy of your's and your company's lives..." huffed the Elf King.

Thorin tensed his jaws and subserviently replied, "I apologize, your Majesty. What would you have me do to better serve you, my Lord?  I am humbly at your command."

Electric jolts of white-hot fire surged through Thranduil's veins like lightning.  He had absolutely no choice but to turn Thorin around and take him roughly, once more in the soothing mineral-water of the malachite tub.

Just on the brink of his second unwanted orgasm, Thranduil's sudden words penetrated Thorin even deeper than his cock did at that moment.

"Tell me... tell me, my slave- _Mmmph_... - Tell me you _love_ me!"  

He ground his cock deeply into the dwarf as he waited for a response, anxious to find out just how much the Dwarf King was willing to submit to his demand.

Even though Thorin's stomach was empty from days of starvation, he nearly heaved up the words, "I... I... love you... And I love your cock in my ass."  He clenched tightly around the thick girth inside him as tears of hate stung his eyes.

Thranduil was in total rapture.  He moaned and shouted loudly as he fucked harder into the Dwarf King.  _"Aaaaahnngh!_ Yes!- Tell me again! Say my name, SAY IT!"

Thorin gulped down the bitter lump in his throat as he let go of all his pride and sanity.  "THRANDUIL!... _Nngh_ \- I love you!... I _love_ you! _-MMMNN_... I love you Thranduil!!! -Fuck... _NNNGH!!_   Thranduil, my KING!!! -Fuck me my King!!! _Rrrgh_... I  LOVE YOU!!!"

The Elf King knew he was nearing his second climax, and just as before- he would not be left to finish alone.  "Come- SLAVE!" he shouted as he expertly coaxed Thorin's cock to release.

Thorin screamed Thranduil's name over and over again until they both came harder and faster than they had, less than an hour prior.  He had not meant for his lips to spew forth such vile filth... He felt putrefied by his actions. Thorin hated himself in that moment even more than he hated the Elf King.

Thranduil topped off Thorin's humiliation by commanding the simultaneous washing of one another's bodies. It was an act so erotic and sensual to the Elf King that he strongly considered taking Thorin's body for a third time in a row.  But he knew the sun would be down soon and he had special plans for his slave tonight.

Once they were both scrubbed, rinsed, dried and moisturized, the dwarf and elf took turns combing one another's long hair.  Thorin had been extremely cautious as he implored the same technique Thranduil used by starting from the bottom and working his way up with short, gentle strokes, until it was all strait and perfect.

Afterwards, Thranduil removed their robes and took a long teasing look up and down Thorin's chiseled form, enjoying the way the dwarf avoided looking any where but the floor.  "As much as I appreciate you in your natural state, I believe it would be much more appropriate if you were _dressed_ for dinner." 

Thranduil lead Thorin to the wardrobe closet.  Upon opening it, Thorin saw an entire rack of clothes that were much shorter than the rest, but otherwise identical in fabric and design.

"I quite liked to way you looked in fine, elven attire last week..." said Thranduil as he selected an outfit for Thorin and a matching one for himself.  Each robe was a radiant copper color, as were the long cloaks draped around their shoulders, which were lined in luxurious, royal-blue silk.  Even the leggings and metallic boots fit Thorin's body perfectly.

As soon as they were fully dressed, Thranduil pulled Thorin next to himself so he could admire the two of them in the mirror together.  _"Mmm_... very nice, indeed... What do you think, slave?"

Thorin sighed and said, "You look pristine and beautiful as always, my Lord.  Never have I seen a fairer being."

Thranduil tried not to laugh as he spat, "Don't you dare try to get out of answering my question, _slave!_   Now what do you think of your new garments? -And do _not_ lie to me!" 

The Dwarf King bowed his head, but Thranduil yanked his chin up and forced him to make eye-contact.  "I am very pleased to be in _clothing_ \- of any kind," said Thorin, refusing to give and actual opinion of how he appeared to himself, yet remaining entirely honest.

Thranduil's face remained frozen as always, but he could not hide the glint in his eyes as he went on to elaborate on how he had his tailor make dwarf-sized duplicates of all his favorite ensembles.  He taunted Thorin by telling him, "I am _quite_ familiar with the dimensions of your body... perhaps if you are a _good_ slave, I will commission a golden cock-ring for you. Would you like that?"

"Yes, thank you, my King." 

Thorin could not bear the thought of having to act like this for the rest of the night, let alone every minute of every day until he either escaped or died.

Thranduil loved seeing the look of anguish on Thorin's face, as his slave played the part beautifully.  He took the dwarf's hand and lead him to the other side of the expansive room. 

Thorin thought the decadent, red-velvet drapes had been covering an enormous window, but when Thranduil pulled them back, he realized it was actually a set of glass doors which lead to a private, outdoor balcony.

 

"Are you coming?" asked the Elf King as he stood on the balcony, staring back at Thorin.

The dwarf lingered in the doorway, hesitant to step forward.  He had already been violated twice this evening and forced to dress like a perfumed whore, but now his fear had reached a new height.

Six unknown male elves stood, surrounding the edges of the large, stone balcony- all bowing gracefully to Thranduil.

"Come, SLAVE!" commanded the Elf King with spine-tingling authority. (Just as he'd done in the bathtub.)

Thorin wasn't sure if he was going to be made to have sex with _all_ these elves, or if they were just there to watch as he's forced to put on a show for them.  But he did as he was told and stepped forward.  He stood close to Thranduil, almost eye-level with his copper-clad chest as he slowly rose his gaze upward to meet Thranduil's expressionless eyes. Fearing he would be subjected to horrific torture, more brutal than anything his mind could possibly conceive, Thorin silently pleaded to the King,  not to let these elves touch him.

Thranduil ignored Thorin's wide, watery eyes.  He had hand-picked each one of these six elves to perform their specific tasks and would not be swayed by the dwarf's disapproval.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my characters.

The sun was just beginning to set as Thorin stood motionless on the balcony, while the surrounding elves began to take their positions around him.

"Sit!' commanded Thranduil as two elves each pulled a chair out from under an elegantly set table, which Thorin hadn't even noticed was there until just then.

Thorin followed the Elf King's order and slowly sat down upon the shorter chair, which was _surprisingly_ comfortable. Once they were both seated, the dwarf noticed that the middle two elves had begun playing musical instruments.  The one with fawn-colored hair sat on a cushioned, stone bench as he delicately plucked the strings of a very complex-looking snakewood sitar.  A lighter haired elf loomed overhead, playing along softly, to the entrancing melody on a flute which was carved from the same rare and beautiful material. Their song sounded very different than the one he'd heard the elves play in Rivendell, it was much more entrancing and not nearly as annoying. Thorin felt as if he could have easily been lulled into a deep sleep, right there at the table. 

Two more elves promptly filled the wine and water glasses in front of Thranduil and Thorin, while the remaining two brought them dishes, seemingly from nowhere.  The waiters bowed their heads as they served their King and his slave, never making eye contact with either as they did so.  Soon the table was covered with delicious smelling food, and in response- Thorin's body had acted of it's own accord.  Immediately his stomach growled and his mouth watered, yet his mind still prevented him from wanting anything to do with it.

"I can see you are _quite_ famished," said Thranduil, suddenly snapping Thorin out of his trance. (Which that mind-numbingly, hypnotic music was doing little to help.)

Thranduil laughed at Thorin's bewildered expression.  He raised his glass of fine, red-wine and said, "To Thorin Oakenshield, slave under the King of Greenwood!" (As he still referred to his Kingdom.)  "Well?" he beckoned after a brief pause.

Thorin burned with humiliation and rage as he raised his own glass and let it be clinked by Thranduil's before taking a drink.

The Elf King but sipped his wine, while Thorin found himself chugging his down as if it were ale.  He'd do anything to dull his pain, even just slightly.

Thranduil quickly snatched the glass out of Thorin's hand.  "Now, I _know_ you know better than _that!_   Or must I teach you proper etiquette, just as I have taught you basic hygiene?"  

The newly appointed servant-elves all wanted to laugh, but would save their snickers and stories for later, away from the ears of the King.

Thorin bowed his head to Thranduil, averting his gaze away from all the judgmental, staring eyes around him.  "I apologize, my King.  Please forgive my insolence."

Thranduil laughed once more, becoming increasingly amused by the moment.  "Let's try it again... Only this time I will let _you_ choose what we drink to."

The Dwarf King sighed as he looked up at Thranduil, who sat nonchalantly across from him, smirking more with his eyes than his lips.

Thorin fumed as he raised his glass.  His mind raced with countless hateful things he wanted to say, but he knew the sick, twisted Elf King wanted his ass kissed- especially in front of his onlooking subjects.  Thranduil leaned in eagerly, letting Thorin know that he'd better think quick.

"To King Thranduil... A glorious GOD among all Kings of Middle Earth- past, present or future!"  Thorin hoped he hadn't sounded  _quite_ as sarcastic as he'd truly been, but felt reasonably certain that he'd gotten his point across.

Thranduil smiled brighter than the setting sun, laughing conceitedly as he tapped his crystal stemware lightly against Thorin's.

They each took a small sip before placing the glasses back down onto the table, in mirror-image movements of one another- never once breaking their intense eye contact.

"Very good, slave.  Now- this is called a _spoooon,"_  said Thranduil as he held up the simple utensil.  He went on to explaining how to use it as if Thorin were some kind of caveman or small child.

A couple of the young, elven servants could no longer hide their giggles, but did their best to muffle them.

Thorin stared flatly at Thranduil as he copied his example and slowly ate his rich, creamy soup, knowing Thranduil would likely force-feed it to him if he didn't.  With each spoonful, Thorin's body responded in immediate gratitude, absorbing and dispersing every bite the moment it entered into his stomach.  Soon, he was no longer looking at the Elf king, but instead, down into his own empty bowl, which was promptly removed from the table by a nameless servant, as another put a salad dish in it's place.

"You _must_ try the vinaigrette..." insisted Thranduil as he snatched the bottle from the startled waiter's hand and proceeded to top both of their salads with it.

The calm, cool evening, glowing sunset, exquisite cuisine, impeccable service, and almost congenial company of Thranduil- who'd provided it all to Thorin against his will, had the dwarf's mind grappling for reason.  It was even more surreal than when Thranduil had forcibly brushed his teeth.  He could not begin to comprehend how he'd gone from being on a quest to reclaim his homeland, to suddenly being here on this balcony, on some kind of strange, unwanted "date" with the King of Mirkwood.  So he just tried to quit thinking and ate his salad which was indeed delicious, with the perfect amount of lightly flavored dressing and oil. 

Thorin finished his dish, along with two freshly buttered rolls of soft, warm bread.  He was so enthralled, that he hardly even noticed when a silver platter was placed before him, until it was uncovered.  The sudden rush of warm, savory aroma, blooming out all around him, had Thorin all but moaning in blissful anticipation.

"I hope you can be trusted with a knife...  If you dare try anything, you will be _dead_ before you hit the ground, is that understood?"

Thranduil's deeply-voiced words made Thorin's back bone shiver with hate, rather than fear.  He nodded, nearly losing his appetite in the process.  But the smell of freshly cooked meat, rice and vegetables was too much for Thorin to resist.  He could have easily devoured it all like a wild animal- but was very conscious of his manners, so he sat up strait, kept his bites small and chewed slowly in between alternating sips of wine and water. (Which the servants kept full at all times.)

Thranduil was pleased to see the way Thorin savored his food and drink along with the look of humility on his beautifully bearded face.  

 

Every one of the six elves surrounding them were all painfully jealous of Thorin's position in the palace.  They were all just as much under the King's rule as the dwarf, yet none of them had ever been allowed to so much as _touch_ Thranduil, let alone have _sex_ with him- even more so, be wined, dined, and dressed like royalty!  None of them had ever seen their King smile and laugh like this.  They never knew he had such cute dimples... and his eyes sparkled even more than they usually did, as he gazed adoringly at his so-called "slave."

 

"What do you think of the venison?  Do you like the way it is seasoned?"

Thorin swallowed his bite before answering truthfully, and without hesitation. "So heavenly and divine... by far the best I have ever tasted."  

Thranduil smiled wickedly as if the dwarf had been talking about _him,_ rather than the food.

 

After they finished their meal, Thranduil dismissed the servants and musicians. (Who seemed to simply vanish into the darkening shadows.)  All dishes had been cleared from the table, except for the carafe of wine and two glasses.  The night air grew chilly, but their thick, royal robes kept the two Kings comfortable as they sat at the table, sharing a few more glasses of wine together.

Physically, Thorin felt full and warm as the food nourished his body and the wine relaxed his muscles, but mentally he was still furious, shocked and confused as to what was going on at that moment.

Thranduil continued to ramble on about his own heroic deeds, failures of other Kings, and _'general, inflated-ego-minded bullshit'_ as the moon rose higher in the sky.

Thorin stayed quiet, nodding along, and clinking glasses with Thranduil whenever the Elf King said something he thought worthy of cheers. 

Both had grown somewhat heady from the superbly potent wine.  Thranduil reached across the table and cupped Thorin's face while letting his thumb brush lightly over the dwarf's lips.  "You look most exquisite in the moonlight, my slave."

Thorin waited a moment for the insult, which would inevitably follow, but when Thranduil said no more- Thorin knew his insult had come in the form of being forced to return a convincing-sounding compliment to his most hated enemy.

"The moon, it's self _pales_ in comparison to your absolute radiance and beauty, by King."

Thranduil shivered with hot-blooded lust as Thorin sucked the elf's long, slender thumb into his mouth, completely unprovoked.

Thorin knew he must be drunk.  Why else would he be doing this without being forced to?  He concluded that no-matter-what, it was going to happen anyway, so he might as well try to get it over with as quickly as possible- just as he'd done in the bath.  Yes- it was he who was in control-  _'not Thranduil.'_ His tongue swirled over the smoothly manicured extremity for a few moments before it was pulled from his mouth. Then, the hand it was attached to was being held out in offering to him as Thranduil stood up from his seat.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Once the sun had gone down, Galion convinced Feren to cover for him, should the King inquire as to his whereabouts. 

"I'll only be gone a short while, I assure you.  Everything will be fine- just say I went to the kitchen or something..."

"Wine cellar would be more believable."

"I'll make a stop there on my way... you know, just so it's not a lie..."

Feren laughed and told Galion he'd better get going, if he didn't want to get caught.

 

In the dungeon, Galion was surprised to see that the dwarves had already been fed a hearty meal and been given fresh linens to wear. 

"Elros, you actually took care of the dwarves?  I thought you hated them!"

"Of course I hate the dwarves, but the Prince seems to feel differently.  You notice how one is missing?"

"I _knew_ Legolas had a thing for that foxy, little brunette!  Well, Elros, you can stay and watch if you'd like, but I plan on having a bit of my own fun with the eldest Dwarf Prince..."

"What _is_ it with the elves of this Kingdom?!  Have you all lost your minds?  No matter- suit yourself, I believe I shall go visit with Feren for a bit... at least _he_ still seems to have some sense of reason... Oh, and _do_ keep it brief- Legolas said he would have the other dwarf back in an hour, and that was nearly thirty minutes ago."

 

Galion brought with him, a bottle of wine, which he'd stolen from Thranduil's private reserve to share exclusively with Fili.  He'd hoped Elros might have unlocked the cell so he could have had more of a _conjugal_ visit with the blue-eyed dwarf, but the captain's stern look, had told him not to push his luck.   

Fili took one sip of wine, set the bottle aside, reached through the bars of the door and pulled Galion down to meet his mouth in a lip-crushing kiss. Without his uncle there to judge him, Fili no longer cared who else might be watching, or what they might be thinking.  His senses ignited with pure, unbridled lust as he gripped onto the elf's waist and hips, hard as he could through the solidly-built cage.

The elven butler had never kissed anyone with facial hair before.  Fili's beard and braided moustache felt very exotic and intriguing to Galion.  He deepened their kiss, needing- _craving_ more as he wound his hands into Fili's thick, blonde hair and pressed his body against the bars to grind against the dwarf's.

Fili moaned softly into their ravenous entanglement of lips and tongue, which caused several of the dwarves to cheer, howl and whistle.  

Galion broke their kiss, panting, "My sweet Prince, are you sure you want to do this _now?_ Perhaps if I talk to Legolas, I could arrange for-"

" _Touch_ me, Galion... Please."

The elf did not hesitate a moment longer.  He'd been dreaming of getting his hands back on that dwarf's stout cock from the moment he'd first touched it in the forest.

Fili groaned loudly when he felt Galion's smooth fingers slip into the front of his trousers and wrap around his rigid shaft.  This evoked another round of cat-calls from the rest of the dwarves.  Galion actually felt spurred on by their encouragement.  He yanked Fili's pants down, dropped to his knees and began sucking on the Prince's meaty cock.  The bushy, hair-covered base and balls fascinated the elf, causing his own arousal to leak tiny droplets of pre-cum into his tight, thin leggings.

The sounds of shouts and whistles had died down, leaving nothing else to be heard, but gasps and moans from the entire company, as they shared in the infections, sexual energy of their Prince and his elf.

Galion only payed attention to the sounds Fili made as he took the dwarf's entire length into his mouth.  Only a few minutes of sucking, licking and teasing, had Fili's cock bursting a generous amount of sweet, orgasmic juices deep, down Galion's throat.

 

Fili was just getting ready to return the favor, when Elros returned.

Galion was clearly perturbed.  "I thought you would not be back until later."

"Unlike you, I am unwilling to take stupid chances.  I suggest you get back to your post before the King finds out where you've been... He is _not_ pleased that you've abandoned your guard duty."

The butler quickly waved goodnight to Fili before rushing off back to Thranduil's chamber doors in state of near-panic, hoping he would not be in too much trouble for having left.

When he got there, he asked Feren what Thranduil had said, only to find out that Elros had been bluffing about the King's inquisition.

"Oh- that arrogant bastard!  He's just jealous because he doesn't have a royal dwarf of his own!  You know how he's always going on about how he deserves to be with a King or a Prince!...  But, as luck would have it, _I_ got one first, so why shouldn't I have my fun?  I am going to _get_ him back for this!  Feren- you must help me get him back for this!   Do you know how _close_ I was to getting my-" 

"Would you like some wine?"

"Give me that!"

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Kili had been most excited when Legolas ordered the guard unlock his cell.  He was thrilled to have the chance to be out of the dungeon for a while, even knowing that he would have to return all-too-soon.

"I wish I could keep you longer, but my father would have you killed if we were to be found out, and I will not risk it."

The Dwarf Prince needed no explanation, he didn't want to waste a single moment of their time together.  "Just...once more, _please_... and don't stop kissing me..." begged the dark-haired Prince.

Legolas immediately moved his mouth from Kili's neck, to his lips, claiming them in a deep, searing kiss which broke only to allow them the occasional gasps and groans as they made love for the second time in a row.  The bed did not belong to Legolas. It was only a seldom-slept-in guest room, which the elf knew would not be watched by anyone as Mirkwood had not had any (voluntary) visitors in years. 

Afterwards, the Elf Prince had made up his mind.  "Tomorrow, I will speak to my father, surely he would let you go if I told him how important it was to me..."

Kili was torn.  He would love the chance to be free, but he could not abandon the rest of his company, especially his brother and uncle.  He shook his head in denial of the elf's offer.

Legolas sighed.  He'd wished Kili would have been more enthusiastic, yet he could not help but admire the dwarf's nobility, though at the same time, he had no plans on letting things go on in this way.  Kili and his entire company would soon be free to go wherever they chose- one way or another... even if the Elf Prince had to threaten or bribe all the guards himself.

He hated seeing the sweet, young Prince locked in his cell once more, but Legolas felt strongly in his conviction.  He would see Kili freed... somehow.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Upon the balcony, Thorin took Thranduil's hand and let himself be pulled up and lead back into the room... into his beautiful, horrible new cell.

Wine in-hand, the Elf King closed and locked the glass doors before drawing the drapes to cover them once more.  He moved his body close to Thorin's as he peered down his nose at he Dwarf King and asked "Have you enjoyed yourself this evening, my dear slave?"

Thorin bowed and answered in a bemused, monotone voice, "Yes, thank you, your Highness, I could not have had a more wonderful time. I owe you a deep debt of gratitude."

Thranduil leaned down to level his gaze with Thorin's.  "Then prove it to me," hissed the elf through closed teeth as his eyes blazed with the light of the crackling fire.

The Dwarf King had hoped in vain that there would be no more sex tonight.  At the very least, he was relieved that the other elves had left... Though the knowledge that they had likely been on that balcony when he was screaming Thranduil's name would haunt him to no end.  The six elves appeared to be very young and would surely gossip about the things they had heard. The thought made him want to burst though the glass doors and fling himself off the balcony to his death.

Thorin forced himself to lift both hands and place them on the sides of Thranduil's smooth face as he leaned forward and connected his lips to that of the Elf King's.  He pressed his body into Thranduil's and slowly deepened their kiss, hating himself more and more with each passing moment.

Thranduil wrapped his arms around Thorin and pulled them both down onto the bed, basking in the divinity of the Dwarf King's will and spirit shattering beneath him.  He shoved his tongue hard into Thorin's mouth, claiming it with aggressive dominance.  Tediously, they began to remove each other's clothing.  Thranduil was elated by the way Thorin automatically reciprocated his touches. He'd thought it would have taken _much_ more time and training to get the dwarf to this point, but Thorin was catching on rather quickly and Thranduil thought his slave deserved a reward for it.

The Elf King moved his lips down over Thorin's neck.  As he kissed the hot, dwarven flesh, he whispered elvish words to Thorin, knowing he wouldn't know what they meant. He ran his broad hands all over the Dwarf King's chiseled chest, before letting his mouth follow.  Thranduil sucked and teased Thorin's nipples into hard, bite-able peaks, then slowly moved down over his tightly packed stomach muscles.  He flicked his tongue into Thorin's thickly-haired navel while he used his hand to lightly grasp around the dwarf's solid cock.

Thorin's body tensed and quivered, betraying him once more as he surged hard with arousal.  He'd completely given up on trying not to make such desperate and pleading sounds...  The combination of wine, magic, and various methods of weeks-long torture had the Dwarf King powerless to resist Thranduil's advances.  He groaned out loudly enough for his breathy voice to echo within the chambers as Thranduil's soft kisses burned a hot trail, downward to the crooks of Thorin's inner thighs.  When he felt the elf's tongue brush over the tip of his cock, he gripped onto the sheets and arched his back, thrusting upward, deep into Thranduil's mouth in one solid motion.

Thranduil was impressed by Thorin's initiative.  He sucked lightly at first, making the dwarf moan and gasp with each subtle motion of his lips and tongue until he could stand it no longer.  After only a few more moments of teasing, Thranduil suddenly and expertly swallowed the Dwarf King's thick, hard cock down into his throat, feeling the blunt head break past his tonsils and into his esophagus.

Thorin half-yelled, half-screamed in broken cries of unwanted pleasure.  He'd never experienced this level of physical bliss, yet to have it combined with such mental anguish was something inconceivably wicked and evil.  Then, he made the fatal mistake of looking down his body to lock eyes with the Elf King.

Thranduil narrowed his cool gaze strait into Thorin's lust-blown pupils as if silently saying, "Now _this_ is how you suck a cock!"

The elf's mocking stare captivated Thorin and had him unable to look away from the obscene vision of Thranduil's mouth so far down on him, he couldn't even see the base of his own cock.  Within moments, his balls tightened up and his legs began to tremble as he felt his third climax of that evening overtake his body, sending a flood of cum down the Elf King's convulsing throat. 

After releasing Thorin from his jaws, Thranduil smiled and picked up their wine glasses from the bed side table.  "With as quickly as you came, one would imagine you had not had your dick sucked in decades... if _ever!"_   The elf laughed, feeling very pleased with himself as he tapped his glass to Thorin's for the dozenth time that night.

The dwarf almost blushed at the stinging truth behind Thranduil's words.

The Elf King laughed once more and told Thorin, "You know, you can receive these kinds of privileges on a daily basis if you continue on your best behavior."

 _'As if I have a fucking choice, you miserable PIECE OF SHIT!!!'_  screamed Thorin in his mind, while his lips obediently spoke, "I appreciate all of your kindness, my Lord and I am most grateful for your generosity."

Thranduil's stomach fluttered with excitement as he pulled Thorin's naked body closer to his own.  "If you _truly_  mean that, then I have a proposition for you... but you must hear me out completely before answering. Do you understand?"

Thorin nodded, hesitantly and waited for Thranduil continue speaking.

"I have considered allowing your fellow dwarves their freedom..."

Thorin reflexively jolted upright in disbelief.

" _IF_..." emphasized Thranduil, not wanting Thorin to get too excited before continuing "...If you pledge yourself to _me_ for all of eternity."

The Dwarf King was confused.  He thought the elf had _already_ claimed him as his slave, and not once was he given a say in the matter.

"Allow me to clarify... I could keep you until you become old, gray, useless and die, while your companions do the same in my dungeon.  _Or,_ they could go free, live their lives and die warm and happy in their own beds... while _you_ on the other hand will stay here and belong to me for as long as my own life continues.  As an Elven King, I possess the power to grant you the gift of immortality.  You will never age a day past this moment and you shall not die, lest I be slain- in which case your life will end automatically.  Your spirit will be bound to mine forever... even in death.  I urge you to weigh your options carefully before answering."

Thorin needed no time at all.  "Set them free."

Thranduil closed his eyes and smiled wide, with his head in an almost bowing position to Thorin, making the dwarf suddenly feel very nervous.  He had no idea what this strange sounding ritual would consist of, but was not surprised when the elf made it abundantly clear that sex was obviously a _vital_ element.

The Elf King pulled a vial of oil from the table and slicked his cock with it, before sliding slowly and deeply inside Thorin.  He kept the dwarf's eyes transfixed on his own as he began to move in and out, at an excruciatingly gradual pace.

Thorin wrapped his legs around the elf and rocked his body in rhythm to Thranduil's deep thrusts.  He became so lost in the sensation of being overpowered, he didn't even realize he was moaning Thranduil's name until he suddenly found himself at a loss for breath altogether.  The feel of a cold blade against the side of his neck had stilled the Dwarf King and caused him to break into a cold sweat, even as Thranduil continued to grind, hotly inside him.  He knew if he moved, he'd be dead.  His heart raced and he squinted his eyes shut as he felt the sharp, elven-dagger slice carefully though the flesh of his neck, causing a drop of warm blood to trickle quickly down his collar bone.

Thranduil traced the crimson trail with his tongue until his mouth closed over the shallow wound.  He began sucking hard, drawing the dwarf's life force into his own, as he fucked deeply into him.

Thorin grunted and gasped, but soon found his own mouth being met by Thranduil's bleeding wrist.  At first, he was revolted, but then one taste of that elven blood- and Thorin needed more... Needed it like he'd never needed anything so badly in all his life.

Their bodies, minds and souls melted together in a haze of spiritual passion and lust.  They both became dizzy and light-headed, lost in the rapture of sinfully erotic and unknown intimacy.

Thorin felt a surge of power course through his body like raging rapids, then without warning, his mind fogged over, his muscles went limp and he began to sink into the depths of unconsciousness.

Thranduil pulled his mouth and wrist away as he slid his satisfied cock out of the Dwarf King's body.  He laid Thorin gently back onto the mattress, with his head propped comfortably upon the pillows. The elf took several long moments just to gaze at Thorin's peacefully sleeping form, whilst stroking his hair and beard. He whispered in Sindarin to the dwarf and placed a soft kiss upon his forehead to enchant Thorin's dreams. He then covered them both with the large, downy blanket.  Thranduil wrapped his long, naked body around his eternal lover as he happily drifted off into his own deep sleep for the rest of the night. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my characters.

As the first glimmers rising sunlight began to illuminate the room, Thorin felt very strange and disoriented waking up in the Elf King's arms. -And not just because of where he was and who he was with, but he felt as if he'd been changed in ways he could't even describe.  Instinctively, his hand flew up to his neck, where he suddenly remembered having been cut, but finding no wound, he'd assumed it had only been a vivid nightmare.  He knew he'd had several others throughout the course of the night... The strangest one had consisted of him being in water, somehow having sex with a magnificent, merman version of Thranduil.  (He chose not to think too deeply on the matter.)

"Mmmm... How did you sleep, my immortal slave?" moaned Thranduil, groggily as he enveloped Thorin's entire body with his own and began kissing all over him.

 _'Immortal...'_   That word rang in Thorin's mind like an alarm, instantly he remembered everything.  _'What have I done?!'_

Thranduil felt ecstatic to have his slave all to himself, all the time, for the rest of time.  "Mine..." he snarled as he flipped Thorin over and pounded into him with urgent need. 

They both felt it immediately.  Everything was different now... The connection between them was deep and undeniable, yet the Dwarf King still hated Thranduil almost as much as he hated himself.  Still he played his part, and begged to be fucked harder by his King until his ass was filled with cum and he'd been forced to surrender to his own orgasm.

Even more humiliating was the way Thranduil insisted on bathing one another yet again.  Not until Thorin was in the bath chamber, did he notice that all the bruises on his body had vanished.  He kept waiting for the elf to inflict new ones upon him, but was alleviated when Thranduil did nothing more than wash him in the tub.  The scents of the soaps and oils were different today, more of a crisp blend of juniper berry and ginger.  Thorin had noticed the change in fragrance, but did not put too much stock into it.  Afterwards, they dressed in the robes Thranduil had picked out for the day.

They were differently sized duplicates of glittery, sapphire-blue fabric which dazzled in the golden rays of the brightening morning light.  Before Thorin could look in the mirror, Thranduil pulled the dwarf's hair half-way back and braided it into and intricate weave.  He then placed a perfectly fitted, translucent-blue crown upon the head of each one of them.  Instead of being made of branches and berries, these crowns were constructed of enchanted icicles which protruded in a proud pattern of spikes from the front of their heads.

When Thranduil positioned the mirror, Thorin was completely taken aback.  He couldn't even focus on how he was dressed-  It was the fact that his _ears_ had become _pointed_ at the tips that had the Dwarf King truly feeling the gravity of the deal he had willingly made with the Elf King.  He had sold his soul for the lives of his people, and could only _hope_ that the deceitful elf would hold up his end of the agreement.

Before waiting to hear Thorin's opinion, Thranduil said, "Give me your hand."

Thorin did not think it should be time for another manicure yet, but he held out both hands, only to have the right one casually brushed away.

Thranduil held Thorin's left hand and quickly slipped a ring onto the fourth digit.  It was the same ring Thranduil had worn on his own finger since the day Thorin's grandfather had given it to him after a most rigorous romp in Erebor's vast fortress of dwarven gold.

"You have pledged yourself eternally to me, and as such this ring shall encircle your heart's vein until the end of all time."

Thorin was stunned.  He gazed down at the large, sea-foam colored gem which was set in a silver, branch-like frame.  He had always admired it on Thranduil's hand.  It stood out to him and he'd felt strangely drawn to it's unusual beauty.  (Not that he'd ever admit that to the Elf King.)

Unsure of what to say, Thorin started to lower his head in submission, but was promptly pulled back up into a regal stance.

"Don't you dare bow to _anyone,_ whilst wearing that crown and ring! -Is that clear?!"

Thorin rose immediately, frustrated by the fact that no matter what he did, it seldom seemed to be right.  "I apologize for displea-"

"Spare me the meaningless formalities! ...It is time for breakfast."

 

Once again, they were served out on the balcony, by the same waitstaff as the night before. 

Thorin had heard one of them address another as "Meludir."  The auburn-haired elf was by far the youngest-looking of the six.  He seemed to be in charge of keeping the drinks filled, while the others served the courses and played music.  Thorin had no idea who the others were and did not dare ask them, nor Thranduil.

The sun rose warm in the sky as the Dwarf King ate his first real breakfast since his stay at Beorn's house, but that could _hardly_ even be compared to the spread before him in the current moment.  Thorin gratefully indulged in eggs, sausages, sliced fruit, ham, pastries, jam, and many other delicious things which were all dolled out in perfect portions by the trained elven servants.  He couldn't help but say thank you as Meludir bashfully refilled his orange juice for the fourth time.

Thranduil chuckled and scoffed.  "You need not thank them for doing their _job!"_

Thorin nodded while saying nothing, not wanting to get snapped at again for apologizing.  He unconsciously looked down at the large, glinting jewel sitting beautifully upon his left hand.  All his tension, fear, hatred and confusion somehow seemed to fade away when he gazed into it.  He finished his breakfast, and as it served to clarify his mind- he suddenly remembered he was also wearing a crown.  _'Why would a slave be wearing such things if for no other purpose, than sheer mockery?' _

Then it dawned on him.  These were _winter_ crowns!  Durin's Day had passed last night while he was...  _'out here, under the moon... with Thranduil!'_ Thorin's heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

"What's wrong, did you not like the way your eggs were cooked?" questioned Thranduil as he flicked his hand in a dismissive way toward his servants.

Thorin's eyes darted back and forth.  "Durin's Day..." he whispered, more to himself than to the Elf King.

Thranduil sighed and said, "That day holds much different meaning for you now, doesn't it?"

Thorin bowed his head, not in show- but in genuine grief.

"Trust me, you are _much_ better-off here, away from that mind-corrupting gem and conflagratory beast.  Now come, we have work to do."

"What about my company, you promised to free them."

"And I will. -Tomorrow.  But for today, you must get acquainted with your new responsibilities."

He knew it, he knew the Elf King would go back on his word!  Unfortunately there was nothing he could do about it at the moment, but try and mentally prepare himself to _work_  for the King.

The dwarf was soon, surprised and  _very_ relieved to find out that sex was not what Thranduil had meant by "work."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thorin felt extremely odd being out in the open view of the entire kingdom.  He tried not to let the stares and whispers bother him as he stood contemptuously to the side of Thranduil's spectacular throne, tying to give no indication of how he truly felt. 

Thranduil spoke to several elves, who stood upon the lower level.  They discussed matters such as recent orc sightings, and what should be done about the giant spiders in their forest.

"Legolas is leading a team through the woods as we speak... We are driving them out and reducing their numbers by the day..." 

Thranduil's words trailed off in Thorin's mind as he remembered those horrid arachnids and how if it were not for them- he would be in Erebor, reclaiming his _own_ throne, instead of standing here, beside Thranduil's.  He thought (as he often did) about how things would have turned out if Gandalf hadn't left the company when they'd needed him the most... or if the halfling hadn't run out on them... Thorin's future as well as countless other's, would have been drastically different.  Suddenly, his thoughts shattered when he heard Thranduil's sharp tone directed strait at him.

"I _said_ \- what do _you_ think should be done?"

Thorin was just as shocked as the elves to see Thranduil actually asking for his ideas on the situation.  His mind instantly snapped into battle-strategy mode, leaving all of his personal struggles to fall by the way-side.

"I believe these creatures are a direct spawn of evil.  If the driving force behind them is not found and destroyed, the evil will continue to grow more powerful and eventually it will become too strong to fight.  We must look _beyond_ the borders of the forest to locate and destroy the original nest... only then will Middle Earth be rid of such foul monstrosities and the sickness they spread throughout the land."

Thranduil was intrigued by Thorin's blunt outlook and direct approach.  Perhaps if someone _else_ had suggested a similar idea, Thranduil would have dismissed it, in concern for naught, but his own Kingdom...  Though, the way Thorin spoke with such unwavering confidence had the Elf King convinced that the dwarf's plan was the only logical solution.  He couldn't help but be reminded of Thror's Kingly presence.  He smiled inwardly to himself as he thought about how wonderfully ironic things had turned out.

"Thorin is right, we must make it out first priority to narrow-down the source of the vile creatures and exterminate it completely."

The elves all bowed in concession, except for one, who seemed very hesitant to carry out the ideas of a dwarf.  "But my King... there must be a more strategic-"

"GO!" snapped Thranduil, having cut him off before he could finish, while gesturing as if he were shooing away a fly.  The elf bowed gracefully to Thranduil before turning to walk away.

"NOT SO FAST!"

The elf turned to face Thranduil once more, startled by the King's abrupt tone.

 "...Aren't you forgetting something?!" asked Thranduil- stoic as ever, yet with a mischievously, wicked glint in his eyes which Thorin recognized all-too-well.

The soldier was confused as he questioned what else he was supposed to have done, whilst bowing once more.

Thranduil frowned before answering coldly, "Exactly what you _are_ doing, only to _him,"_  as he placed his hand on Thorin's shoulder.

"You _cannot_ be serious, your Majesty!!!"

Thranduil stood tall and menacingly as he confronted the impudent elf who had obviously spoken out of turn.  "He stands by MY throne, wears a King's crown, and bears MY ring!  How _DARE_  you even think to question such an order?!" 

"My apologies... your _Majesties.._ " said the humiliated elf to both Thranduil and Thorin as he humbly bowed to each one individually, right in front of the watching eyes of the entire throne room.

Thranduil sounded pleased and amused, yet his alabaster face gave not so much as the faintest hint of approval as he replied, "Now, _that_ is more _like_ it... you are dismissed."

Thorin tried not to give any sort of outward indication that his stomach was currently filled with butterflies of excitement.  He could not believe that Thranduil would value him above _any_ of his elven subjects.  Unlike the Elf King, Thorin couldn't hide the hint of a smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

Thranduil studied Thorin's subtly delighted expression for a moment before waving up the next group of elves.  Political matters, along with defensive and offensive strategies were discussed and disputed for the rest of the morning, with Thorin being a very active participant in the conversation.  Each time a different elf would bow to him, he would look upon Thranduil's (now _his_ ) ring and feel a little more at ease, and a little less hatred.  Even though he still did not trust Thranduil, he felt as if he did hold _some_ sort of leverage within the palace. 

After lunch on the balcony, Thorin couldn't help but bring up the topic of his company once again.  "I would like to see them escorted out of the forest with my own eyes."

Thranduil sighed.  "I understand.  It shall be arranged first thing tomorrow morning."

Thorin was skeptical.  He'd honestly expected to be denied and ridiculed.  Unsure of the elf's end-game, he simply thanked him and said nothing more on the subject.  He still felt that if his fellow dwarves were to gain their freedom, it would be up to _him_ to help them all escape.

 

The rest of the afternoon went by relatively quickly for Thorin.  Soon he was no longer thinking of his own imprisonment, but instead was completely focused on each and every topic which was presented to him.  By far the most interesting was when someone had brought up the idea of a possible alliance with the Kings of Rivendell.  Although, he did not know what he could possibly say that wouldn't come off petty and nonobjective, so he stayed silent.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

All around the Kingdom, the elves of Mirkwood were more a-gossip than they'd been in centuries.  A few of them stood a safe distance away from the throne, talking quietly amongst themselves as others joined in:

"The King has truly lost his mind!"

"Can you believe he's having us _bow_... to a _slave?!"_

"A _dwarven_ -slave, no less!"

"Did you see how the dwarf was dressed?!"

"That hairy-beast has been _crowned,_ for Valar's sake!"

"Is it true that he's been bestowed the King's jewel?"

"I swear- his _ears_ are pointed, and I _know_ they weren't before!"

"You should hear the things they shout to each other in their bed-chamber!"

 _"Their_   bed-chamber?!"

"Oh yes, the whole 'slave' routine is just a little game they like to play..."

"I hear Thranduil is planning on releasing the rest of the dwarves tomorrow morning."

"You were right!  He has lost his mind!"

The elves laughed and moved on casually as Legolas stood, wide-eyed behind a nearby column of artfully carved stonework.  "Kili..." he whispered to himself, before dashing off to the dungeon.

 

Fili and Kili were both inconsolable over the fact that their uncle had been missing for an entire day.

Galion had tried getting the brothers to eat or drink something, but they both silently refused.  Neither one had slept a wink the night before, even after their encounters with the elven guard and Prince.  They hadn't spoken to anyone, in the fear that something horrible had happened to Thorin and that it was somehow their fault.

The afternoon shadows of the bars were just beginning to lengthen within the walls of the dwarves' cells when Legolas came flying down the steps toward Galion.  "Is it true?!"

"I'm afraid it is all true, my Prince-"

Before Galion could finish, Kili's small, raspy voice broke forth for the first time in several hours.  "Where is our uncle?"

"I promise you, Thorin is perfectly fine... In fact, it seems as though he's even managed to outrank _myself,"_  said Legolas with a distinct tone of malice in his voice.

Kili was baffled by the elf's statement, while the other dwarves all began chattering softly to one another.

"There is no time to explain now, but by tomorrow morning, you will understand.  I must go- but, please promise me you and your brother will eat something and try to get some rest... you'll be needing your strength, for one reason or another..." 

When Kili nodded, Legolas gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, then winked at Galion on his way out, and vanished back into the upper levels of the palace.

The butler knew that wink had meant he'd been given the go-ahead to spoil the dwarves all he wanted to for the rest of the evening, and none but Thranduil-himself could do anything about it. _'Not that the King would do anything, when he is so thoroughly distracted by his hot, little dress-up doll...'_ he mused to himself as he made his way to the cellars.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As the sun was approaching it's last hour in the sky, Thranduil informed Thorin that their work-day had ended and asked if he'd like a tour of the palace.

The Dwarf King said he very much liked the idea and for once he did not have to lie.  He eyed every inch, scanning for any possible escape route as they paced leisurely along what seemed like an endless entanglement of bridges and corridors.  The palace looked like an enchanted forest-turned outside-in, complete with the feeling of being watched from all directions as they sauntered on.

Thranduil acted as if he'd been oblivious to the surrounding eyes and softly spoken whispers, but his naughty streak secretly wanted to spur them on.  He casually wrapped one long, arm around Thorin's broad shoulders and held him close to his side while he spoke.  "These halls and bridges are far more ancient than you know... and they are now your home for the rest of our days.  Over time, you will get to know the winding ways of the palace- however you are never to wander them alone and you _certainly_ will not be permitted to leave.  We will be at each other's sides every day and every night..."

As the Elf King droned on, Thorin wished he would just get to the point.  He was becoming increasingly confused as to exactly what his new role in the palace was supposed to entail.  Then he realized that Thranduil had not once referred to him as "slave" since he put the crown on his head.  But, as with so many other things, he tried not to think too much about it.

"Do not hesitate to ask me for anything you may desire- materialistically or... _otherwise"_ , smirked Thranduil before going on to tell Thorin; "I have selected the staff of six to be our full-time servants.  They are to be at your constant beck and call. You may ask them to bring you anything you want- within limitations, of course.  They have been clearly instructed of the rules, boundaries- and punishment for breaking them, so do _not_ try asking them for any 'special' favors." 

Thorin waited a few moments, but as Thranduil remained silent, he figured it was his turn to speak, so he tried to sound sincere.  "Your Majesty, I would never go behind your back.  I have pledged myself to you for the rest of our lives together... You have my loyalty and my word." 

"Is that so?" asked the elf, almost mockingly.  Before Thorin could answer, Thranduil stopped in front of him, leaned down, and kissed him on the lips.  His touch was firm and lingering, but he did not shove his tongue into Thorin's mouth as he usually did.  Thorin blinked and let his eyes close for a few moments- then suddenly, the tender kiss was over.  He was almost disappointed... _almost_ wanted more.  But the muffled gasps and giggles echoing all around them had Thorin feeling embarrassed and self-conscious.

Thranduil smiled jovially at the rosy-pink glow, which tinged the apples of Thorin's cheeks.  He loved having control of his entire Kingdom's thoughts and actions.  The elf continued on walking, pulling Thorin along with him until they approached the tall, familiar set of double-doors, which lead to Thorin's "cell."

Just before Thranduil could open them, his son came striding up to them with an obvious sense of urgency.  Ignoring Thorin completely, Legolas said to his father that he needed to speak with him right away.

Though the Prince's words had been spoken in Sindarin, Thorin was stunned to find that he'd actually understood the complex language without even trying to.

 

Thranduil told the Dwarf King to wait patiently, before locking him inside the chamber with Feren standing guard outside.

Thorin felt an unnerving sense of emptiness and silence in this room without Thranduil.  It was his first time to _truly_ be alone in many months.  He walked around, taking time to admire things which he'd seen, but never actually _looked at_ before.  Even his own reflection in the mirror seemed as if he were gazing upon a stranger.  His sparkling, elven robes, pointed ears and un-melting crown of ice were a _far_ cry from the image he'd always had of himself as a King.  Suddenly, he wondered if the staff were on the balcony and exactly how they'd gotten there...  Just as he began to pull the curtain back to look, the main doors to the chamber opened and Thranduil entered with Legolas by his side.

Now, the large room strangely felt over-crowded to Thorin.

Thranduil spoke first.  "Legolas has something he would like to ask you..."

"Yes, your Highness?" questioned Thorin, curiously- unable to imagine what the Elf Prince could possibly want from him.

Legolas did not look pleased.  The Prince nearly growled as he begrudgingly bowed to the Dwarf King.  "I seek permission to keep your youngest heir with me, here in the palace."

Thorin's eyes burned with rage, but Thranduil intervened before the two could rip each other's throats out.  "My son does not wish for you nephew to be a _slave,_ but a willing companion, who- unlike _you_ \- may leave any time he chooses. And before you ask- yes, he will be given the same offer of immortality as yourself."

The dwarf did not know what to think.  He would love for Kili to stay and never die, _'but it wouldn't be fair to Fili- not by a long shot.'_ He could tell by Legolas' impatient demeanor that an answer must be given quickly.  Thorin sighed deeply before looking up to Thranduil as if he might somehow find the right combination of words hidden somewhere within those glacier-hued eyes.

"I have given my blessing, but the decision is yours to make," said Thranduil, offering no help what-so-ever.

Finally, Thorin came to the only possible conclusion.  "The decision is _Kili's_.  He is not to be coerced nor threatened... and his brother must be allowed the same choice as well."

Thranduil nodded in agreement.  "Arrangements will be made in the morning and we shall reconvene then, but as of now the Dwarven Princes will stay where they are... No more sneaking around in the guest-rooms."

Legolas looked stunned and slightly guilty.  "Ada, how did-"

"My son, you know better than _anyone,_ that I _always_ know what goes in this Kingdom!  Now, you may take your leave."

The Prince bowed, respectfully to his father, then bowed to Thorin with an undisguised sneer of disdain.

After he left, Thranduil rolled his eyes and said, "He _does_ tend to be somewhat of a spoiled brat, but I assure you- he will eventually get used to having a new King in the palace."

Thorin stilled, wanting to ask so many questions, but afraid to speak out of turn.

The Elf King laughed at Thorin's nervous expression and gave him a quick kiss before moving to open the drapes and unlock the doors to the balcony.  

 

Sure enough, there were the six elves, who's faces were becoming more familiar to Thorin, even though he only knew one of them by name.  They all bowed to the Kings, just as they had always done.  Only before, Thorin had thought the gesture had been meant just for Thranduil.  He could not deny that it felt good to be shown respect by the entire Kingdom.  

As their crowns glistened in the light of the setting sun, Thorin and Thranduil sat down to a delicious, gourmet dinner, even more wonderful than the previous night's.

This time, when the servants were dismissed, Thorin payed very close attention to see where they went.  He saw them disappear down a secret stairway, which lead strait from the King's balcony to some unknown location in the vast palace of Mirkwood.  He'd found his escape route... 

Tomorrow would hold the fate of his nephews. Thorin hoped they would choose to stay and become immortal, like himself.  Afterwards, they would all escape to Erebor, where the three of them would reign indefinitely, beneath the brilliance of the Arkenstone.

Thranduil asked Thorin, almost as if reading his mind, "Tell me, what has you so deep in thought, that you do not even enjoy your wine?"

The Dwarf King thought quickly, and decided it would be wise to voice a genuine concern about something entirely different.

"Something troubles me, my King...  You see, long before arriving to the forest, my company consisted of a fourteenth member... A hobbit by the name of _Bilbo Baggins."_

Thranduil froze.  "Why did you not mention this when we were speaking with the council today?"

Thorin shrugged and squirmed a bit before answering.  "Because I do not know what to make of it.  He is nether friend, nor foe to me- yet I do not deem him trustworthy.  If the halfling could so easily break a written contract to my people, what reason do we have to believe he would not abandon us in the middle of battle?"

Thranduil particularly admired Thorin's usage of the words "we" and "us".  He tried to give the dwarf some peace of mind by saying "I do not know this Hobbit King, but it matters not.  I do not trust _any_ King from _any_ Kingdom, other than our own... however if there is an alliance to be reached, your role in it will be pivotal. We must plan our next move very carefully." 

Thorin raised his glass up in toast to the Elf King's words.

"Hmm, shall we go inside, where it is warmer?" asked Thranduil in a sickeningly-sweet tone.

Thorin felt nauseous as he nodded, afraid he might lose his dinner if he were to look up at the elf.

Thranduil became much more somber when he said "I only suggest so because we have urgent matters to attend to in the morning, and you should get plenty of rest.  You'll not be forced to do anything you don't want to do- nor should you feel obligated in any way..."

Thorin was onto the elf's twisted, little game, and he'd play it as long as he had to, in order to ensure the freedom of himself and his kin.

Upon the locking of the doors, Thorin began stripping off his clothing, while leaving the icy crown for Thranduil to remove, if he wanted to.  Once the crown and ring were the only things left on his body, the dwarf directed his gaze to the floor and asked "How would you like me, your Majesty?"

Scorching-hot blood and adrenaline surged into Thranduil's cock.  His balls suddenly ached, stricken with a powerful need for release.  He took off his own crown, robe and boots, leaving the sheer tunic and tight leggings to cover his lean frame.  The elf wrapped his arms around Thorin and said, "What I would like... is for you to _stop_ acting like the prisoner I have taken as my slave- and _start_ acting like the  King I have taken as my _HUSBAND! "_

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my characters.  
> *Sorry if some of my dialogue isn't too Middle-Earthy, but the story-line is what counts, so I made a few compromises.

Thorin's mind shattered, he could not even begin to comprehend what Thranduil had just said.  The Elf King could not _possibly_ to expect Thorin to commit to him on  that level.  Escaping with his life would be an impossible task, if word of his "marriage" to the King of Mirkwood, were to reach other lands.  It was the ultimate form of ownership... he hated himself for ever having been stupid enough to listen to anyone but his own kin.  He knew he should have just taken Balin's advice and left well-enough alone.  And now because of _him_ , they would _all_ be let down.  He wished he could just die and get it all over-with, but death was no longer an option for the Dwarf King.

"Thorin?" whispered Thranduil, when felt the dwarf start to tremble in his arms.

Thorin struggled to speak, but could not seem to catch his breath.

Thranduil wrapped a soft blanket around Thorin's naked body.  "Would you like to sit by the fire for a while?"

Once they were comfortably seated amongst the plush furs and large, floor cushions, Thranduil and Thorin silently basked in the warm glow of the crackling fire.  Thranduil allowed the Dwarf King his personal space as he passed a freshly opened bottle of wine back and forth, sans glasses.  They did not make eye contact, nor did they whisper so much as a word to each other, until the bottle was nearly empty. 

The elf spoke somberly, as he gazed deeply into the flames.  "I want you to be happy... I want _us_ to be happy.  I know you do not love me, regardless of what you said when I was fucking you, yesterday...  But I do believe I could provide you with at least, _some_ contentment..."  As always his expression held up hard as stone, yet a single tear gleamed bright with fiery reflections as it rolled down the left side of Thranduil's porcelain face.

Thorin's hand rose-up reflexively, and brushed it away before it could fall to the floor.  He wasn't sure why he'd even felt compelled to do so in the first place, but it did serve to soften the tension between them... momentarily.

In less than a second, Thranduil's cheek began to melt away, revealing the grotesque form he had shown to Thorin nearly a month ago.  Instinct told Thorin to whisk his hand away from the rotting flesh, but his overriding logic reminded him that this was only another one of Thranduil's sordid manipulations, so he kept his hand where it was- ready to call the Elf King's bluff.  But his conviction wavered as he felt the actual bare, muscles and tendons with his own fingers, while the intensely overwhelming sting of burning fire sank into his calloused palm, finally causing him to scream out in pain- unable to remove his hand from the source.

Quickly, Thranduil pulled his face back and returned it to it's normal appearance.

"So it's true then?!  -Not just an elven glamour?" beckoned Thorin as he rubbed his still-burning hand.

Thranduil took the dwarf's hand and kissed his palm, soothing the pain away, instantaneously.  "That pain you felt is but a fraction of what I feel at every moment.  The physical pain, however is nothing compared to the psychological anguish... It may seem shallow to another race, but an elf's perfection and beauty are more highly prized to us than any gold or jewels.  It takes a toll on my energy to keep up this veil of magic at all times, but worse than that- I am immune to my own power.  When I gaze upon my reflection, I see nothing but gruesome horror and ruin."  He kissed Thorin's hand once more, realizing it was the same one he'd put the ring on.  "You, Thorin- make me forget the pain and feel..."  Thranduil decided it best not to continue.  At this point, he didn't want to damage the Dwarf King any more than he already had. 

"Feel what?" asked Thorin with his voice as deep and crackling as the fire which burned before them.

 

Thranduil finished the last swig of wine before standing up and striding off to bed, leaving the conversation to linger undone, within the chamber's flickering shadows.  He waited until he was under the covers to remove the remainder of his clothing, then he curled up on the far side of the expansive mattress.

Thorin hesitated for a long moment, unsure of what to do, or even how to feel.  He took off his crown and set it beside the larger one on the dresser, then slowly made his way to the bed and climbed in, under the blanket with the Elf King.  He knew Thranduil was not asleep, so he kept a slight distance between them, before leaning in close and softly whispering, "Please make love to me, my King."

Thranduil rolled over, stunned to hear such a genuine sounding plea from the Dwarf King.  He stared deeply into Thorin's eyes and asked "Is this what _you_ want or, what you think _I_ want?"

"I _hope_ you want it as much as I do..." answered Thorin, huskily as he pulled Thranduil's body closer to his own.

Thranduil gasped at the feel of their hot, naked bodies pressing and sliding, slowly against one another's.  They were so much more in tune with each other's movements and the powerful lust between them than ever before.  Thorin's stout, swarthy dwarf body ground hard against Thranduil's long, smooth elven anatomy in a way that felt entirely new to both of them.

As their blood coursed through each other's veins, Thorin realized that they were connected in such a deeply spiritual way, that there was no use in fighting _any_ of it anymore... for _either_ of them.  "Drop the veil... please", he whispered against Thranduil's left cheek.

The Elf King stilled and allowed his face return to it's true form.

Thorin's lips never left Thranduil's withering cheek.  He groaned softly as he took in the pain and tried to comprehend how the elf could possibly look and act so graceful at all times, whist suffering such unfathomable torture.  Thorin shifted his lips slightly, to find Thranduil's half-mangled ones as his hand moved to cover what was left of Thranduil's cheek.  The pain was more intense than anything Thorin had ever even, come close to feeling before.  He winced in agony, but kept kissing and touching the Elf King's decrepit face as he drew himself in closer to Thranduil's lean, beautiful body.  It took all of Thorin's his strength, not to scream out in excruciating torment.  But he would not stop now, he needed to _know_... needed to _understand_ exactly why it was that the elf had refused his people aid in the past, against the fire of a dragon.

The searing pain was getting to be too much for the dwarf to take.  "Ssssshhss!" hissed Thorin as tears spilled from his eyes and his breath caught in his throat.

Thranduil moved back, but kept his face as it was, although he did try to shield it a bit with his long hair.  "I am very sorry... for everything.  You are free to leave with your company tomorrow.  And please- keep the ring. It belongs with you... even if I do not."  He turned around and laid down once more, with his back to Thorin.

The Dwarven King had been so close to screaming at the top of his lungs so many times already, he could no longer bear it.  In Khuzdul, he shouted violently- no longer holding back any emotions from the Elf King.  "FUCKING CUT THE GOD-DAMN BULLSHIT, THRANDUIL!!!"

The elf's half-decomposed face snapped around to glare at Thorin with one crystal clear, blue eye and one spooky, solid-white, sightless orb.  Thorin tried to shake off the intimidating stare, and keep himself from looking away.  "You take me prisoner, you make me your _slave_ \- your 'little bitch', then you call me your _HUSBAND_ , and the moment I finally break and tell you I want you- _really_ want you... you want me to _leave?!"_ His voice had cracked and broken much more than he would have expected as tears welled in his eyes, making him feel like a complete fool, so he turned away from Thranduil and held his breath, waiting for a response.

The Elf King spoke more softly than Thorin had ever heard.  "I do _not_ want you to leave, but if you do- it should not be because you feel the need to _escape_... I saw the way you were mapping out an exit-strategy all afternoon.  I know how much you hate me and you have every right and reason to do so."  

Thorin could no longer reign in his tears as they flowed down into his beard, making it glisten in the dancing firelight from beyond the bed.  He felt torn. The elf's words had been profoundly true, yet Thorin felt the oddly-overwhelming need to make Thranduil believe that they were not.  "I do not... hate you.  Though I cannot lie -I did.  For nearly sixty years I hated you.  These past few weeks my hatred _burned_ for you.  But I hated  myself even more... for... _loving_ you." 

There- he'd said it out loud and there was no denying it.  -No way to take it back or make it untrue.  Thorin Oakenshield had forcibly fallen in love with the Elf King of Mirkwood.  He turned his face up to Thranduil with nothing but honesty and sincerity in his sparkling, aquamarine eyes.

Thranduil was utterly floored.  "you cannot _possibly_... love me, the way _I love you."_

"Show me how you love me, and we shall see..." said Thorin with deep-seated lust and desire before closing the distance between them once more.  He deepened their kiss- searing and sizzling with _passion,_ rather than pain.  Thorin even had to open his eyes for a moment to see if Thranduil had masked his scars again, but he hadn't.

Neither one of them felt anything but love and yearning for one another.  They took their time, appreciating each soft brush of lips, tongues, hands and bodies.  Their limbs entangled in a writhing motion of natural rhythm, echoing in the pattern of their deepening kiss.  They wound their fingers into each other's hair, combing all the way down the length as they moaned in harmony.

Thranduil had intended to do just what Thorin had said, and show his Dwarven King that he genuinely _did_ love and cherish him more than all he star-lit gems in all of existence.  He began kissing all over Thorin's neck, collarbone and newly pointed ears, savoring each little huff and gasp to escape past the dwarf's reddening lips.  The Elf King lavished Thorin's body with kisses, licks and soft bites.  After working his way up and down from both directions, the elf settled his mouth over the Dwarf King's plump, round, hair-covered balls.  Thranduil sucked them into his mouth, one by one, gently rolling each of them with his tongue while humming a soft vibration around them.

Thorin closed his eyes and moaned loudly as his fists clenched the silken sheets.  His cries grew louder and his breath became more ragged as Thranduil's mouth moved up the length of his hard, veiny cock.  The Dwarf King shouted in his native language when the elf laved his tongue around the thick head and began sucking gently until his entire shaft was enveloped by hot, wet suction.  It felt so amazing to Thorin, even more than it had, the night before.  Then Thorin's eyes opened to look down at Thranduil, who was staring right back at him with his mismatched set.

Thorin was aghast- not by the Elf King's eyes, but by the fact that he could actually look strait _through_ Thranduil's cheek to see his own cock moving up and down within the elf's open mouth.  He found the vision to be extremely disturbing, yet somehow, strangely arousing.  He couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he were to _come_ in Thranduil's mouth, in it's current condition... The dwarf couldn't take his eyes off of the grotesquely sensual image until Thranduil took his mouth off of Thorin's cock- smirking ever-so wickedly as he did so. Thorin wasn't sure which had been creepier- seeing his cock through the Elf King's face, or seeing the way the bare, white tendons pulled back when he smiled.

 

Without words, Thranduil gracefully guided the dwarf's body with his hands, coaxing him onto his stomach.  He leaned his long frame over Thorin's broad, sturdy back, moaning at the feel of hot, skin-to-skin contact, clashing and combining with the cool, wintry sent of the Dwarf King's dark mane.  He let his torso graze over Thorin's ass as he kissed slowly down the dwarf's spine, inch-by-inch, leaving icy-hot tingles in his wake.  His hands splayed around Thorin's rib cage before clawing softly downward until they reached his hips.  Thranduil took a moment to admire the look and feel of how his thumbs fit perfectly into the two, deep dimples at the small of Thorin's back.  He squeezed just hard enough to earn a breathy groan from his Dwarven King.

Thranduil kneaded his hands all over Thorin's round, muscular glutes before leaning in to take a hard bite of each cheek.  The elf sank his teeth into the dwarf's thick flesh almost deep enough to draw blood, causing Thorin's body to tense and jolt beneath him.

"AAAHH!!! -Fuck! _Mmmph!"_ cried Thorin as he felt the Elf King's jaws clamping down, hard onto his ass while his cock slid firmly against the smooth sheet.

Afterwards, Thranduil traced his fingertips over the dash-lined arches before grasping tightly, with his palms and spreading Thorin's ass-cheeks apart.  He licked small circles in alternating directions around the Dwarf King's hair-tinged hole, loving the reactions he was getting from Thorin, and savoring his masculine taste.

Thorin gasped for breath as he rocked his hips back, desperate for more of the erotic sensation.

Thranduil happily gave him more by twirling his long tongue deep into the Thorin's asshole, which had the dwarf screaming louder than he'd ever heard from his bearded lover.  Hungrily, he sank his tongue in even further before lapping it out slowly, then thrusting deeply back inside.  

Thorin had become so lost in the feel of the Elf King's mouth on him, that he wasn't the slightest bit aware of how emphatically he shouted Thranduil's name and continuously begged for more.

The elf hadn't anticipated such wanton eagerness, nor did he expect to hear Thorin calling out his name with such need in his voice.  To hear him shout these things and _mean_ them had Thranduil's cock dripping.  Soon, his tongue was replaced by first one- then two gentle fingers, gliding in smoothly, stretching Thorin with care as he twisted and scissored the Dwarf King's body open.

Thranduil had only meant to take his time- he was not trying to _tease_ Thorin, bet when the dwarf began panting "Thranduil... please, _PLEASE_... I need your cock inside me! - _Mmnngh!_... Please FUCK me, my love!" Thranduil was hapless but to comply.  He carefully pulled his fingers out and rubbed the wetness over the head of his cock before lining it up to Thorin's well-prepared hole.

Both Kings screamed, breathlessly at the feel of their bodies joining together in a synchronized motion of mutual passion and desire for one another.

Thranduil draped himself over the dwarf's muscular back as he slowly started circling his hips in shallow thrusts.  _"Ahnngh!_ Thorin... MY KING!!! _-Uughh_... I love you, my _KING!!!"_

Thorin was in ecstasy, hearing the elf shout _his_ name, for the first time.  He writhed back onto the Elf King's long, smooth cock, taking it in as deeply as he could whilst returning the spoken sentiment in broken pants and moans.  His voice was becoming raspier by the moment, but he could not stop himself from continuously repeating his words of love for Thranduil.

The Elf King began to thrust in harder and deeper, giving Thorin's cock slick friction against the soft, slippery sheets, below.  He didn't want to force his partner's orgasm tonight- Instead he wanted both of them to fully enjoy every fleeting moment of the experience.  This was their first mutually consensual time together and first times only ever happen once. -It was not to be squandered.

The better part of an hour later, the two Kings had picked up enough momentum, that neither one could hold back any longer.  As they called out each other's names, both lovers climaxed so intensely that the guards outside their chambers could no longer contain their _own_ arousal.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Galion and Feren stroked one another's cocks, unaware that they- too were being spied upon.

The King's six servants were dispersed either individually or in pairs as they hid behind various columns, listening to Thranduil and Thorin's shouts, and moans, while eagerly watching the guards use their hands to get each other off. (And clearly _not_ for the first time...)

Feren needed only the salacious sounds of the Kings, along with Galion's skilled hand to push him over the edge. 

Galion, however thought of no one but Fili when he came hard into Feren's grasp.

The mood was infections... Even the young, shy, Meludir couldn't help but let his hand explore his own body, trying to mimic the example set forth by the guards.  He found the simple technique to be _quite_ effective as his own orgasm quickly began to overtake his entire being.

 

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Thranduil and Thorin gasped and trembled together in a sweat-glistening knot of well-toned muscles and long, flowing hair.  Holding one another tightly, they each whispered declarations of love, lust and adoration for one another.  Thranduil nearly cried when Thorin stroked the deteriorated side of his face and told him he was still "the most beautiful creature, ever to exist beneath the sun, moon and stars."

"And don't even try to act like you don't know it!" insisted the dwarf, evoking a sweet-hearted chuckle from the Elf King, followed by a lengthy kiss.

Within minutes, the blood-enchanted couple were hard and eager for a second round.

"Take me- _fuck_ me, my King... Please fill me!"

The elf was already in position with his legs bent beneath him as he leaned forward, giving Thorin gratuitous access to his perfect, little, pink hole.

Thorin stilled for a moment, almost in disbelief of Thranduil's urgent pleas, before launching rapidly into action.  He dove at the hot target with his mouth- licking, swirling, flicking and thrusting his tongue deep inside as he sucked his lips tight around Thranduil's twitching ring of muscle.

Thranduil moaned and shouted, telling Thorin how amazing it felt and begging him not to stop, until he was soon pleading for more than the dwarf's mouth and fingers.

The Dwarf King couldn't resist... He moved away from the elf as a devilish smile played across his fire-lit face.  "Only if my _SLAVE_  promises to do exactly as I say... lest there be punishment."  He then proceeded to slap Thranduil hard on the ass, sending a loud smack, immediately followed by the elf's shout, to echo throughout the cavernous bed-chamber.

 _"NNNNGHH!!!_   YES- YOUR MAJESTY!!!"

Hearing Thranduil's enthusiastic cry made Thorin's already rock-hard cock stiffen to an almost painful extent.  He crooked his neck and leaned in close to Thranduil, nearly kissing him as he breathed in his intoxicating scent.  Then suddenly, he hopped down from the tall bed and sauntered away toward the fireplace.  He said nothing for several moments as he laid down on his back, luxuriating in the feel of soft, animal fur beneath his naked skin and being surrounded by radiating warmth.  Thorin put one arm casually behind his head and brought his other hand to his mouth, wetting his fingers, before slowly stroking them over his thick cock.  He gazed daringly at Thranduil and said with a calm, yet mocking tone, "You're not a very bright slave, are you?  Do you not understand what your role is in this scenario?"

The Elf King smiled as he swung his long legs off the bed with effortless grace before gliding over to Thorin.  He straddled the dwarf's hips as he lowered down, slowly until Thorin's blunt, fleshy head pressed firmly against his wet and ready hole.

"Mmm... Very good, slave... Now, _ride_ me! Ride me SLAVE! Take it HARD!!!" commanded Thorin, loving the feel of finally having control, power and freedom.  But most of all, he loved the feel of Thranduil's tight ass stretching out around his cock all the way down to his own bushy base.  Being inside the Elf King's body felt more resplendent than anything Thorin had ever experienced in all his days. He groaned, loud and long-winded as he drove his hips upward to impale Thranduil and hit the spot, deep within that would be sure to make the elf's eyes roll back in his head.

Thranduil put on quite the heavenly display with the way he arched his back, whilst running his fingers through his own long, blonde hair.  His deep scars and white eye added a striking and most-thrilling touch to the overall effect.  He ground down firmly, taking in as much of Thorin's virile cock as he could, hissing and moaning while he called out Thorin's name, proclaiming him as his King, and pledging his eternal love over and over again.

Thorin roared like a beast as he gripped onto Thranduil's smooth thighs and guided his body to move faster and harder. 

The elf pumped and gyrated his body in such a powerfully sensual motion, that Thorin began to wail in agonizing lust. 

 _"Rrrrghh!_ Kiss me, slave!" rasped the dwarf as he grasped onto Thranduil's long, silky cock and began stroking vigorously.  He wrapped his other arm around the Elf King, and brought him down to press their mouths and bodies together. 

Thranduil kissed Thorin slow and deep, while his body moved over the dwarf's in serpentine-like waves.

Soon, they were moaning into each other's mouths as both Kings exploded in an intense rush of orgasmic bliss.

Thranduil coated Thorin's stomach with warm, slick cum as the Dwarf King filled his elven-slave's ass to the brim.

They lingered together this way for a while, completely connected in the soft glow of the dying fire.  Afterwards, the couple made their way back to the bed they would share together for all of time.  But before Thranduil lied down next to Thorin, he said, "Please cover yourself, my King, there is something I must do."  His face then returned to it's usual, pristine appearance as he smiled at his husband.  Then, he wrapped the red-satin robe around his body and strode silently to the chamber doors.

In one quick motion, Thranduil flung both doors open wide, to reveal a large crowd of startled elves.  He glared threateningly at them as they scattered and scampered away like vermin, while Galion and Feren simply hung their heads in shame.

Thranduil slammed the doors shut and turned around to face Thorin as he moved toward the bed.

Soon after he'd sat down beside the dwarf, they looked deeply into one another's eyes for a brief moment before both of them burst into hysterical laughter.  They fell into each other's arms, laughing so hard, tears streamed down both of their faces.

Thranduil hadn't laughed that much, since the time a very young Legolas had found out what a skunk was.

Thorin was fairly sure he'd never laughed so hard.

Finally, after several deep breaths, jokes and subsequent laughter, Thorin and Thranduil fell peacefully, asleep in one another's warm, loving embrace.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my characters.

The next morning, as eager as Thorin was to get to his dwarven company, he was even more eager for his elven husband.  Two leisurely rounds of love-making in the bed, followed by one more in the bath, had the Kings ready to begin their day with bright smiles on their faces.

Thorin happily chose the robes they would wear, but Thranduil did insist that no-matter-what, they should _always_ match one another.  (Thranduil used to _love_ dressing Legolas just like a miniature version of himself.  But when his son became a teenager he'd started rebelling against the royal robes and crowns, in favor of dressing like his peers, who were distinctly- _not_ royalty.  It had always frustrated Thranduil, but he was far past the point of arguing with Legolas.  Thorin, however was a _King_ , not a Prince, and would never grow out of wanting to dress in fine fabrics, gems and symbols of high status.)

Just as Thranduil had predicted, Thorin selected the long-trained robes of bright, shining, golden fabric, which were lined in rich, crimson velvet.  The magic, icicle crowns seemed to glow with iridescent, gold light, rather than their previous shade of ethereal blue- beautifully topping off the delicate braids they had woven into each other's soft, fragrant hair.  

As the Kings stood proudly, together in the mirror, Thorin felt most majestic and was not afraid to say so.  Thranduil was overjoyed to see how much the dwarf appreciated his regal attire. 

They continuously complimented one another, even over breakfast.  The staff were in awe as they watched Thranduil and Thorin openly flirt and giggle, while feeding each other strawberries and exchanging deep, longing eye-contact.  Several times they interlocked fingers and kissed the backs of each other's hands as the ascending sun gleamed brilliantly over the gilded robes which draped their bodies like molten treasure.

Upon the refilling of his drink, Thorin politely said "Thank you, Meludir," causing the waiter to blush furiously- unable to hide his deeply dimpled smile as he bowed to the Dwarf King.

Thorin took great delight in the elfling's adorable reaction as he smirked defiantly at Thranduil.

The Elf King but rolled his eyes as he yielded to Thorin's manners, thanking each elf by name and formally introducing them to Thorin.

 

After breakfast, the two Kings set out to do as Thranduil had promised and free the imprisoned dwarves. They would see them off, safely- with the possibility of Fili and Kili remaining in Mirkwood.  

Legolas and the three highest ranking guards waited by the dungeon cells, for Thranduil and his "slave-king", while the anxious dwarves all exchanged worried looks and whispers.

Soon, the Kings arrived, after having been bowed to by practically every elf in the palace on their way there.  Not once did the smiles leave their faces as they strode confidently, with Thorin's hand curled around Thranduil's bent elbow.

The dwarven company had been shocked by the sight of their own King, crowned and robed like elven royalty.  Even worse, was the fact that the robes were _exactly_ the same as Thranduil's.  An unfamiliar jewel now rested upon Thorin's left hand as he stood proudly before them, clinging to his most-hated enemy.  Then they noticed that his ears were pointed, just like an elf's.  "That can't be good..." said Balin as he shook his head.

Thorin suddenly felt like a traitor to his people, yet he knew his place was here- with Thranduil.  The thought still seemed _beyond_ strange, when he tried thinking of how to articulate it, but he felt as if there was something much bigger going on than just his union to the Elf King.  The future of all Middle Earth was at stake and he felt obliged and honored to have such a powerful hand in destroying the evil forces which threatened to overtake them.  

Thranduil nudged Thorin, encouraging him to take control of the situation.

The Dwarf King put on his best bravado as he turned to Elros and commanded him to unlock the doors to the cells.

The keeper of the keys, looked at Thranduil, astonished that he would allow a dwarf to speak to him in such a way.  But when the Elf King nodded in approval of Thorin's request, Elros did as he'd been told by the Dwarf King, while lamenting the entire time that it should be _he_ , who is a King.  The elven guard had _always_ thought himself worthy of a crown, but now- more than ever, did he feel cheated out of his full potential.

The dwarves all stepped out of their cells, tentatively.  "Uncle Thorin, what's going to happen to us?" asked Kili as he moved toward his brother.

Thorin's voice echoed loud and deep as he announced "We have all been granted our freedom..."

Immediately the dwarves began cheering and shouting.  Fili and Kili soon found themselves being pulled apart by Galion and Legolas, who were equally as elated.  All of Dwalin's weeks-long strength and comforting had Ori curling up like a baby lamb into the warrior's broad chest.  Bifur bounced Bofur up and down as he jumped for joy, while shouting in ancient dwarfish.  They all hugged and patted each other's shoulders, but the celebratory moment proved to be short lived when Thorin began speaking once more. 

"...All freedom comes with a price.  In this case it shall come in the form of some very steep decisions which must be made in a very short amount of time.  For reasons you may not understand- I have made my choice... to be with Thranduil... eternally."

Some of the dwarves gasped in shock, while others shook their heads in denial, but some, such as Bombur, Bifur and Ori could only stare in wide-eyed bewilderment.

Thorin felt the Elf King's arms wrap around him, giving him comfort and illustrating his point.  He continued on to give them his blessing in whichever direction they should choose to travel- be it the way of Erebor, the Iron Hills, or the Blue Mountains.  -Then came the part, which he'd been dreading most of all.

"Fili, Kili, I am afraid your choices are a bit more complicated..."

Before Thorin could go on, Galion squealed and said;  "My sweet Fili, you're going to be IMMORTAL!!!"

"WHAT?!", shouted all of the newly released prisoners, in unison.

Thranduil and Legolas both laughed at the butler's overzealous declaration, while Thorin feared Galion may have just ruined everything. _'Ultimately it would be Legolas' fault for_ _having obviously told Galion about the deal'_ , he thought, with contempt for the entitled, blonde brat.

As amusing as Thranduil found the situation, he knew Thorin was becoming increasingly irritated, so decided it best to go ahead and intervene by calmly stating "Princes Fili and Kili of the noble line of Durin; you are hereby invited to stay here, and live freely within the Kingdom of Greenwood...  Should you accept, you will _indeed_ be granted the option of immortality.  You may take the rest of the hour to decide."

The dwarves gasped once more, unsure of exactly what to think.  Should they be happy?  Should they feel betrayed?  Maybe Thorin was sacrificing himself for the greater good?  Perhaps he'd been brainwashed by elven magic...  None of them were sure.

Suddenly Kili's voice rang through like a bell, turning all heads in his direction as he gripped tightly onto the Elf Prince.  "I want to stay _here!_  -Forever!", shouted the young dwarf, before he buried his face into Legolas' chest and choked back a sob of overwhelming emotion.

Fili gripped onto Kili's wrist as he held onto Galion with his other arm.  "And I belong with my brother... and my-"

"Boyfriend?" questioned Galion as he smiled down at the dwarf with hopeful twinkles in his eyes.

Just as Fili began to nod his head, the rest of the dwarves started yammering and disputing in Khuzdul until finally, Thorin's deep voice broke through, in the form of a loud, booming yell.  Having successfully gained the dwarves' attention, he softened his tone to say "No matter _what_ the future may hold, you are all welcome in these halls, anytime you should choose to stay, and you have our allegiance- _always."_  

Thranduil closed his eyes and hung his head at the stinging edge behind that last word.  Thorin firmly gripped his bejeweled, dwarven hand over Thranduil's long, slender fingers in assurance that although the past may have been forgiven, it would never be forgotten.

The ten departing dwarves all had decided it was best not to argue with the gift of freedom and to get out of Mirkwood as quickly as possible.  They hated the idea of leaving their King and Princes behind, but it had become clear than no one was forcing them to stay, so there was nothing else to be done, except decide on which way to go.  After a brief discussion, they unanimously settled on making their way back toward their home in the Blue Mountains. 

 

The dwarves had been offered elven escorts to see them safely through their entire journey, but the company had blatantly refused, contending that they were more than capable of making the trip on their own.

However, they were very grateful to be outfitted with horses, supplies, their original weapons and then some.  At first they felt a little awkward, being on such tall animals, but Legolas assured them that if and elfling of the age of five could ride a full-sized horse, they should have no problem.  This elicited a round of defiant jeers from the dwarves as they all insisted they were perfectly at ease.  Ori had hoped no one saw him almost slip, until Dwalin silently helped him back into position on his saddle.

Thorin had always been curious about Thranduil's mighty elk.  He'd never seen another one like it, and he certainly never thought he'd get the chance to _ride_ the enormous creature.  "His name is Ceros..." Thranduil had said upon introducing him. "He is the last of his kind in existence and very highly prized to me.  I hope you will become quite fond of him."  The gargantuan buck was _much_ larger and more intimidating to see close-up, but when Ceros nuzzled Thorin's hair, the dwarf felt an instant bond with the gentle-spirited animal. 

Thranduil had Thorin seated firmly in front of him as he lead the company to the western edge of Mirkwood.  He couldn't hide his arousal as his crotch pressed hard against Thorin's ass.  To top things off, Ceros did not move like a _horse-_  he was much more fluid in his lengthy stride, which added a very sensual element to the experience.  Thranduil wondered if Thorin would be opposed to riding naked, through the forest some day, so they could take full advantage of his elk's extraordinary capabilities. 

Soon, they reached the same gates through, which the dwarves had entered.  After a tearful goodbye, the dwarves rode off, on their way back home with a certain sense of defeat and loss, but more than anything- they were just happy to be _free,_  and away from elves.

As the Kings sat tall upon the magnificent beast, Thranduil wrapped his arms tightly around Thorin's waist and whispered against his ear "My troop has been instructed to stay discreetly vigilant, and not to intervene unless their lives depend on it." 

Thorin chuckled and said "And you wonder why I never trusted elves..."  The Dwarf King actually felt a strong sense of reassurance that his kin would be protected, whether they liked it, or not.  

Fili and Kili had tried unsuccessfully, to hold back their tears as they watched the rest of the dwarves disappear off into the distance from their places atop Galion's and Legolas' large steeds.

Within moments, the three couples were all galloping back to the palace, where they would spend countless centuries to come.

 

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The brothers were not sure just _how_ they were to become immortal and gain pointed ears like their uncle, but neither one were willing to part with him, each other, or their elven mates.  As such, they were very excited to receive their enchantment and extend their lives indefinitely.

Thorin embraced both of his nephews for several moments, thanking them and telling them how proud he was.  Then he told them that they should go, get washed up and,  "After that, you will go with Thranduil to... partake in the ritual."  Ordinarily he would never condone such an act- for MANY reasons, but if allowing his new husband to have sex with his nephews and drink their blood was what it took to bring them into the light of immortality, he felt he had no choice, but to accept it.  He didn't even like the fact that his nephews had taken up with elves in the first place.  At first, he'd honestly thought they'd just been manipulating Galion and Legolas, but Thorin knew that he- of all people, was in _no_ position to tell them who they could or couldn't love.

Thranduil hadn't _planned_ on immortalizing the young dwarves behind closed doors, but if Thorin was giving him the go-ahead, then he certainly wouldn't be foolish enough to turn down such a delicious opportunity.  Even his son had no idea what was involved in the process, so he knew no one could argue with him.  "Meet us in the royal dining hall at noon."

Galion was already shuffling Fili off to his private chambers like a child with a new toy, while Legolas bowed to Kili as he held out a gentlemanly hand. "Shall we, my Prince?"

Kili grinned wickedly as he bowed in return.  "After you, my Prince."

Thranduil snickered at the youths, while Thorin grumbled, trying not to roll his eyes.

 

The Kings spent the next couple of hours talking to elven soldiers and advisers about the usual topics and informing them of the Dwarven Princes new status within the palace.

The elves did not like hearing that they were to show the dwarves the same level of respect as they do Legolas, however they were not surprised.  Rumors had been spreading for some time of their Prince's attraction to the young brunette, while Galion had made no secret of his fondness of the slightly older blonde.

When it came time to eat lunch, Thranduil had arranged for them to be served in an openly spaced, indoor/outdoor area, which Thorin did not recognize.  The table was much larger than the one on the balcony.  It was surrounded by six chairs with place sittings, although, there was room enough for twice that many.  Just before they sat down, Galion and Fili appeared from one direction, while Legolas and Kili arrived from the other.

The Dwarf Princes were dressed in the same brown and black, leafy-designed garments which the elves wore on a daily basis.  Their hair was clean and braided into elvish plaits. (Which both Kings thought looked _adorable_ on the young dwarves. However, Thranduil was blatantly underwhelmed by their choice in wardrobe.)  

Legolas ignored his father's subtle sneer of disapproval as he motioned for Kili to sit next to him.  The Elf Prince had never seen a reason to dress in sparkly robes when he was out in the woods most of the time anyway. (Something _else_ he and his father tended to disagree on.)  At the moment, he could not care less as his eyes glinted with the afterglow of having been with his dwarven lover for the second time.

Galion didn't even try to hide the smirk on his face as he pulled Fili's chair closer to his own.  

Thorin would have punched those elves had it not been for the beaming, ear-to-ear grins which his nephews unabashedly wore.

As the drinks and dishes were served, Legolas was perplexed by his father's behavior.  He had never once witnessed Thranduil thanking any of his servants for their menial tasks, let alone calling them by name as he did so.  Not being opposed to the idea, Legolas followed suit by addressing each one of them and introducing Kili.

Galion thought he should do the same, although he felt very _strange_ sitting down to dine with the Elf King, as opposed to being the one waiting on him.  He had only recently trained every one of these six, young servants on how to perform their duties and now, they were actually applying their teachings to _him_.  It felt "very strange indeed..." he mused, aloud, causing the waiters to chuckle under their breaths.

 

Once they had all finished their food, along with a couple glasses of wine, the Durin brothers started to get impatient and Legolas was becoming increasingly suspicious about this "ritual", which was to make them immortal.  Galion did not know what to think, but he didn't care as long as it kept his dwarf with him for the rest of their days.

Thranduil played his part, cool as ever.  When he stood up from the table, he offered a hand to each Dwarf Prince, then told his husband, son and butler to stay together until he returned with Fili and Kili.

All, but the Elf King, were exceedingly nervous as the two, naive dwarves followed Thranduil away to the Kings' chambers.  Once they were gone, Thorin, Legolas and Galion found that they did not know what to say to one another.

Thorin wanted to question the elves about their intentions toward his nephews and the other two desperately wanted to know what Thranduil was going do to their partners, but none seemed able to voice their inquiries.  So instead Thorin began talking about spiders and orcs, which kept them all occupied to a shallow extent as their lovers engaged in acts of unfathomable pleasure.

 

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Thranduil had explained to Fili and Kili that only Elven Kings possessed the power to grant immortality and asked them one more time if they were sure they wanted to live forever.  At the brother's emphatic insistence, Thranduil calmly instructed them to remove each other's clothing. (He could have asked them to disrobe themselves, but he found _this_ much more pleasurable to watch.)

Fili and Kili had been very confused by the Elf King's request, but they did as he said until they were completely nude.  With their hands cupped over their genitals, the brothers stared in awe as Thranduil made an inticingly erotic show of taking off his own clothing.  A matter of moments was all it took for the dwarves to go from hiding their cocks to stroking and squeezing them. 

Thranduil let his hand slide slowly up his own length one time before motioning for the Princes to join him on the bed.  Being with Thror's gorgeous grandson was one thing, but he'd never even _thought_ about getting a chance with the fallen King's _great_ -grandsons.  

Kili was so nervous he'd began trembling as soon as he was seated next to the Elf King.  Fili automatically wrapped his arms around his younger brother in a reassuring embrace.

"Mmm... So you two like to touch each other?" purred Thranduil as he began rubbing both dwarves' backs.  "It's okay, I want you both to feel comfortable, and I would _love_ to observe."

The brothers turned bright red and tried to hide their guilty grins by curling their faces into one another's necks without actually giving an answer.  They had been touching since they were teenagers, but had _certainly_ never done it in front of anyone.  Just before their lips met, Fili turned to Thranduil and asked  "Are you _sure_ we have to do all this?"  Kili was in agreement with his brother as he started to pull away.  They'd thought Thranduil would have just lit some candles and said some magic words, but now the Princes were beginning to wonder if they were being taken advantage of.

As far as Thranduil was concerned it was already much too late to tell them the truth.  He thought it would be best for everyone involved if he just kept with the notion that it was all necessary.  "I understand your concerns...  If you would like to stop-"

"NO! I want to be immortal!"

"Yes, we will do whatever it takes!"

"Please, just tell us what to do!"

Thranduil smiled naughtily as he said  "Put your mouths on each other."

Fili and Kili each took a deep breath before they began kissing with only one side of their lips touching, to give the Elf King a clear view of their tongues tangling together.  The brothers let their hands roam all over each other's bodies for a few moments, then shifted their position, so Fili was lying on his back, while Kili straddled his face in reverse and leaned forward over Fili's stout body.  They simultaneously sucked one another's cocks, hoping they were doing what Thranduil wanted.  Even though the brothers had done this countless times in the past, they quickly found that it felt more exciting than it ever had before.  The thrill of being watched had the dwarves wanting to put on their best performance- and _not_ because they felt pressured to.

Thranduil was very impressed by the brothers' tenacity.  He would have loved to let the experience last all night, but he knew the others were anxiously waiting.  "I can see that you are both quite talented.  Now, let me _feel_ just how skilled you are with those luscious mouths."

Instantly, the brothers broke apart and draped themselves over the Elf King's body.  They took rapid turns kissing him until all three of their tongues were sliding together in an undulating knot of wet, chaotic lust.  Eagerly, Fili and Kili moved their kisses to Thranduil's neck, then down his chest and stomach until they met once again to share his cock.  They moved their tongues together over the head for a few moments- giving Thranduil the occasional quick glance as they did so.  After the brothers had licked their way down the silken shaft to the base, they separated, with Fili continuing to move lower, while Kili's lips went the opposite direction.  The Princes took turns exchanging the elf's cock and balls in their mouths, almost lost in competition with one another until they suddenly felt themselves being breached by the King's long, slick fingers.

"Now that we're all warmed up, are you ready to take what I have to give you?" asked Thranduil as he took delight in the dwarves' gasping pleas for more.  He positioned the brothers side by side, on their hands and knees.  Since Fili was the eldest, he decided to start with him first.

Thranduil kept his fingers inside Kili as he sank his cock deep into Fili.  After a few gradual thrusts, he pulled out and switched to the younger brother, while keeping Fili's ass open with his index and middle fingers.  He kept his pace steady, moving seamlessly back and forth from one to the other, whilst biting their necks until the skin was so flush, he could no longer stand it.

Having already been with Legolas, Kili couldn't help but to compare the two royal elves. The father's and son's styles were eerily similar, yet still somehow the exact opposite of one another's... sort of like the difference between sunrise and sunset.

Neither of the dwarves saw when Thranduil had grabbed the dagger from the drawer in the bed-side table, but they both reacted instantly to the taste of a bleeding wrist being placed over each of their mouths.

After a brief squirm of protest, Fili and Kili latched on and began sucking even more enthusiastically than they had on Thranduil's cock.  They didn't even notice when the elf cut the outer sides of their necks. (Not that they would have cared anyway...)

Thranduil sucked less than a mouthful of blood from each Dwarf Prince, to ensure that they would not lose consciousness as their uncle had.  He pulled his wrists from their mouths, and his cock from Kili's ass just before he shot his cum all over both of the dwarves' backs.  The brothers had never once let go of each other's cocks the entire time until they released on Thranduil's cue.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was almost dinner time when the Elf King finally emerged with the two newly immortal Dwarven Princes. 

Thorin, Legolas and Galion were all elated to see Fili and Kili with broad smiles, pointed ears, and looking none-too-worse for the wear.

As they all sat around the table together for the second time that day, there was hardly a moment when the elves and dwarves were not laughing and teasing one another.  Even the servants were beginning to feel much more comfortable around the Kings, especially in the presence of their mentor.  Galion would silently correct them when they served a dish from the wrong side, or took too long to pick up an empty plate.

The high-end wine flowed freely, long after the dwarves and elves had finished eating.  "Do not think I didn't see that!" exclaimed Legolas when Kili winked at Meludir after thanking him for another refill.   

Immediately afterwards, the Elf Prince leaned close to Kili's ear and whispered "He _is_ cute... isn't he?"

"Not as cute as you," answered the sweetly smiling dwarf as he gripped his hand over Legolas' thigh.

Legolas responded by bidding goodnight to the others and leading Kili away from the table.  As the servants bowed to the Princes, Legolas' hand reached out and grabbed onto Meludir's wrist, without so much as looking back, or missing a step.

The Elf Prince kept walking as if nothing were out of the ordinary as he lead the giddy Dwarven Prince and the unwitting elven servant to his bed-chambers.

 

Within the walls of Legolas' room, Meludir felt like the luckiest elf in all of Middle Earth.  Still, he was considerably embarrassed to admit to the Princes that he was a virgin, one who'd "never even been kissed before." -But he felt as if they ought to know, in case they wondered why he wasn't "up to par," as he'd put it.  Afterwards, he shyly glanced down to one side before looking back up with a smile so bright, it would illuminate the darkest of caverns.  His sweet dimples made Legolas and Kili want to melt all over him.

"Do not be afraid, my dear Meludir..." said Legolas as he reached a hand to cup the young elf's smooth, smiling face.  "...Kili is a wonderful kisser."

With that, the Dwarf Prince stepped up, on top of an ottoman to make his stance eye-level with Meludir.  He pulled the elf close, lingering less than an inch away from the servant's face, enjoying the look of excited innocence for a few moments before slowly pressing his soft, full lips to Meludir's. 

The chestnut-haired elf felt a powerful rush of adrenaline course through his body, making him tense and shiver with lust.

Kili parted his lips and let his tongue tease Meludir's mouth open before claiming it in a deep, passionate kiss that would have frightened most virgins, but the dwarf could not hold back.  His elven-infused blood ignited in a furious whirl of fiery want and need.

Meludir trembled as he let Kili guide his lips and tongue, learning, and trying not to disappoint.  The feel of Kili's light beard had the elf's knees feeling weak.  He whimpered softly into Kili's mouth as he felt the warm body of Legolas pressing firmly against his backside.

The Elf Prince had brushed Meludir's hair away from his neck and began kissing hot trails up and down the elfling's smooth, creamy flesh.

Meludir let one of his arms reach back around Legolas while the other remained around Kili.  He moaned as he reveled in feelings so new and spectacular.  He wanted more, but did not know how to go about getting it.  The young elf wanted to do what he'd seen Galion and Feren doing the night before... He wanted to do whatever it was the Kings had been doing to elicit such wanton sounds and scream each other's names.

Legolas had already had Kili all to himself twice, and he knew the dwarf was his forever, so he was determined to make _this_ moment all about Meludir's first sexual experience.  He turned the dark-haired elf around and kissed him just as seductively as Kili had, while the Dwarf Prince licked and bit his way up to Meludir's ear-lobe.  They slowly began stripping the elven tunics and leggings from all three of their slim, toned bodies.  

Once they were undressed, they moved to the bed, which was more opulent than any Meludir had ever seen before.  He couldn't believe he was in the Prince's room- in his bed, with the added bonus of the incredibly sexy, young Dwarf Prince.

Kili and Legolas showed the sweet virgin brand-new sensations, using their hands, mouths and bodies in ways Meludir had never even dreamed of.  He quivered with anticipation and arousal as the two Princes took both forms of his virginity at the exact same moment.

Legolas slid his cock, slowly up into the elfling's excruciatingly tight ass, while Kili took Meludir's hard length deep into his own hot opening.

Sandwiched between two beautiful Princes, the inexperienced elf was not able to hold on for very long.  Kili's cries of "harder!" affected both elves, causing them all to writhe together as one, thrusting and grinding until the three of them had reached their breaking point.  They shouted loudly as Legolas came into Meludir, who in-turn came deep inside Kili.  The dwarf had coated the elves' hands in slick juices, which afterwards, they made a lovely show of licking off one another's fingers.

 

Meludir's lustful moans and screams had been loud enough to be heard by the five elves, hiding around the corner from the Elf Prince's doorway.  The Kings' servants were jealous, yet fascinated by the sounds which echoed out from the bed-chamber.  They were even more curious than they'd been the previous night because this time, it was one of their own and they wanted to know what Meludir had done to earn such a privilege.  Soon, they saw the doors open and the youngest member of their crew stride out of the room as if he were walking on clouds.

Once the large door had softly closed, the five lurking elves swarmed Meludir as they questioned and congratulated him.

Legolas and Kili spent the rest of he night in each other's arms, making love back and forth, before finally falling into a blissful, satisfied slumber.

 

Fili and Galion hardly slept at all that night as they ravished one another's bodies over and over again. 

 

Thorin and Thranduil had stayed up late by the fire, talking and laughing as they happily enjoyed their evening together.

"So, how were they?" asked Thorin with a sly grin.

Thranduil sighed and tilted his head. "Well, no offense to your nephews- they were very fun, but I have grown too accustomed to... _this_ , right _here_ to ever be fully satisfied by another... even two at once," said the elf as he gripped onto Thorin's cock.  

Before long, the Kings were gasping and shouting each other's names, as their bodies rocked together, bathed in warm, glowing firelight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I didn't exactly get too creative when coming up with the name for Thranduil's elk. I just took the last part of "Megaloceros" (Irish elk) and thought it sounded like an elvish word.  
> I did NOT however make up any of the names for the background elves. (Such as Meludir, Orelion, Heledir, Eredhon, etc.) These characters appear on film for only a brief moment- if at all. I wish I could have found more of them, so if anyone knows of any, please let me know, and I might just have to incorporate them into the next part.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my characters.

After breakfast, Kili had insisted on going with Legolas into the forest to demolish what they could of the ever-encroaching spiders.  "I haven't had the chance to practice in weeks.  If there is to be an upcoming battle, then I must stay sharp."

"First of all, that's what the target range is for... Second of all, who said _you_ were to be fighting in any battles?  I've already seen you spun in silk once, I'll not risk you being maimed or killed." 

"Hey- just because I don't do ballet when I fight, doesn't mean I can't kill just as many spiders as you can!  And I am going to be there when we win that battle!"

"I am not doubting your capabilities, I just feel you would be safer here, in the palace... and it's not _ballet_ \- it's called style, thank you very much!"

"Well then, you must teach me this so-called 'style' of yours!  Honestly, how hard could it be to kill a few spiders, whilst dancing around like a pretty little-"

Legolas ended Kili's teasing with a deep kiss, followed by a very obstinate answer of "NO."  He was not _about_ to let his sweet, young Dwarf Prince risk his life in such a dangerous environment.

Thranduil couldn't help but smirk at how much Legolas suddenly reminded him of himself, and so many of the same arguments they'd had in the past.

 

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As the soldiers and Princes fought their way through the forest, Legolas found that he was actually quite impressed by Kili's archery skills. (Not to mention the dwarf's resounding stubbornness.)  Though the dwarf _was_ a bit reckless in his maneuvers, Legolas saw a natural talent, that _'with a little bit of elven refinement,'_  held an enormous amount of potential.  The elf had also been thoroughly entertained by the dwarf's sudden knowledge of Sindarin and his propensity for showing it off.

Fili had been equally enthusiastic about getting some revenge on the creatures that nearly killed the entire dwarven company only a month ago.

Galion would have been content to stay in bed all day with his beautiful, blonde boyfriend, but after witnessing how fierce the Dwarf Princes fought, neither he, nor Legolas could deny that the brothers would both be valuable assets in battle.  

Nearly four-hundred spiders were slain that day, along with several egg-sacks, which seemed to lead off in at least five different directions, leaving them no closer to narrowing down the path to the source of evil.

 

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Deep in the ruins of Dol Guldur, Azog had been working to build up the number of spider-soldiers by protecting the central nest.  He sent out several groups of orc spies, to keep watch and fend off any who may dare threaten his plan of widespread domination.  When the messengers reported back to Azog, of having seen elves getting threateningly close to their trail, the pale orc commanded they double their efforts in strengthening their legion of darkness and destruction, by word of their shadowy Master.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As Balin lead the company of ten dwarves, he, as well as the rest of them couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.  They'd been traveling all day, but so far nothing had jumped out and attacked them, so he let it go, and decided it would be best to bed down for the night.  

With the rest of the dwarves in agreement, they made a fire, ate their supper and laid down their bed-rolls in a circle around the campsite.

Ori surprised Dwalin by snuggling up to him once the others had fallen asleep.  "Is it alright?  I just feel... safer... that's all," said Ori with big, puppy eyes and a voice so soft and sweet, it made the rugged warrior's heart melt.

"Aye," grumbled Dwalin as he wrapped his strong arms around the young, freckle-faced, little red-head and pulled him in close enough to feel each other's hearts beating.

 

Feren had followed his King's orders, by leading a troop of eleven elves (not including himself) to watch out for the dwarves from behind the trees and shadows.  They'd already kept the dwarves from being attacked twice, by warg scouts- unbeknownst to them.  The elves kept a vigilant watch throughout the night, knowing the orcs would eventually catch up to them and most likely force them out of their concealment.

And eventually they did.  Feren and his troop could no longer stay hidden within the background if they were to save the dwarves from imminent death.  As soon as the orc pack had been annihilated, with the remaining few being driven far away, the elven soldiers once again, disappeared from view.

The company all shared in a mixture of shock, relief and no small degree of annoyance, by the insulting gesture that they couldn't fend for themselves. 

"I knew we were being followed from the very start!  Didn't I say it, brother?  I knew it!" exclaimed Nori as he elbowed Dori.

Dwalin turned in a circle, looking blindly into the trees as he hollered "Ye' might as well go ahead, and come on out... Not really any point in hiding anymore, now is there, lads?!"

Slowly, the party of one-dozen elves appeared out from behind various and unsuspecting hiding spots, all around the dwarves.

The lieutenant, Feren, they recognized immediately, but the others were all unfamiliar carbon-copies of one another. (At least from the dwarves perspectives.)

After a few rounds of bickering from both sides, the elves and dwarves all settled on the conclusion that it would be most logical for them to travel as a solid unit, rather than divided and mistrusted.  Since the elves were under direct orders to see the dwarves through their mission, they had no choice but to carry out their task and it was much easier to do when they didn't have to focus on staying silent and not being seen.

 

There had been a fair amount of tension and animosity at first, but after some time on the road together, the two different cultures became much friendlier, and even sometimes- _flirty_ with one another.

"Would you two cut that out!" snapped Gloin as Bofur scampered up and down, trying to retrieve his hat from the head of the tall, smiling blonde who had stolen it.

Not _all_ the dwarves had interest in their elven counterparts.  Dwalin and Ori had grown considerably closer, and very fond of each other's nightly companionship.  Although they  _thought_ they had been  so careful about it, their entire traveling party were not only _well-_ aware, but secretly placing bets as to which one would make the first move, beyond friendly cuddling.

As they continued onward, the dwarves finally noticed that they were being lead down an entirely different route from which they had originally traveled. 

"I don't recognize these parts..." whispered Balin, followed by Dwalin's near-violent inquiry.  "Just WHERE are you taking us?!  We demand to know!  Where in Middle Earth are we?!"

Feren sighed and rolled his eyes before impatiently stating "If we'd kept on going _your_ way, I would have been protecting you from orcs and goblins around every turn... And the journey would have taken much, _much_ longer."

Then, as if on cue- the thick morning fog cleared and the company could easily see the outline of the Blue Mountains directly ahead of them.

"By my beard!" exclaimed Dwalin as he wrapped his arms around Ori's trembling shoulders without second thought.  The dwarves all gasped in disbelief, causing the elves to laugh with a sense of warmhearted endearment.

Soon, the dwarven company were all giving their thanks, and saying their goodbyes to the elven troop which they had gotten to know and trust over the course of their homeward quest. The dwarves and elves alike, had all found it to be a much more sentimental moment than any of them could have ever anticipated.

The young, blonde elf, whom they had come to know as Orelion, lifted Bofur up and hugged him tightly as he whispered in his ear "I should very much like to see you again, under _proper_ circumstances."

"Aye. But until then..."  Bofur grabbed onto the elf's face and kissed him with wild, blazing passion right in front of everyone.

Orelion responded eagerly to the bold kiss of the moustached dwarf, causing the mixed company to cheer and whistle as they exchanged several pouches of coins. (The elf and dwarf hadn't realized they, too, had been a object of many wagers.) 

A few short minutes later, the elves were swiftly on their way back to Mirkwood, as the Blue Mountains faded off into the background behind them.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Less than halfway through their trek, the wood elves were _very_ surprised to encounter a troop of unknown elves from the Valley of Imladris.  They soon learned that their meeting had not been by chance.

"Rumors have been heard of a party of dwarves and elves traveling together across the land.  We have been sent by Lord Elrond to offer our aid, should you be in need of it."

"We are grateful for your generosity- and yes, we were escorting the dwarves back to their homelands, by order of King Thranduil.  The mission was quite successful and we are now, on the path back to our Kingdom," replied Feren, unsure as to why the strangers should be concerned at _all,_ about their activities.  But as the leader of their journey, Feren knew he should be a civil as possible, with the hopes of establishing a comradery with the Kingdom of Imladris.  It would be a risky move to try forming an alliance without the given authority of Thranduil, but it was an opportunity he could not walk away from.  He would return home a hero, or a failure, but either way he would have some sort of an answer for his King.

The elves from the valley politely insisted the others follow them back to Imladris to rest and meet with their rulers. 

The wood elves _graciously_ accepted the invitation.  They all felt very relaxed and at home in the warmth of Rivendell.  Elrond and Bilbo had been most welcoming of the new arrivals, by offering each, his own room to bathe and reside in, along with providing them a hearty dinner of fresh greens, roast duck and delicious red wine.

 

As Feren spoke of their troubles with the spiders in their forest, Bilbo mostly stayed quiet.  He was curious to know why the dwarves had given up on their quest, but the elves seemed to have more important topics to discuss, so he just sat beside Elrond, listening, and wondering about Thorin.

Before long, Elrond had vehemently concluded "This problem is not one to be ignored.  If these creatures are as abundant as you say, then my soldiers and I have no choice but to accompany you back to the forest.  If a battle is to take place, we must unite forces to ensure the elimination of these enemies, lest we all fall victim to the destruction of Middle Earth."  The Elven King let a sly smile creep across his otherwise serious face before continuing.  "As fate would have it, my brother, Elros is on his way to visit from his Kingdom of Numenor.  He is set to arrive in a few days and I have _no_ doubt, he would relish in the chance to fight such monsters.  Please, stay here as our guests until we may all depart together."

Feren tried not to show how relieved and elated he was as he bowed to Elrond and Bilbo. "I thank you, your Majesties.  Our Kings will be considerably grateful for your alliance."

"King _s_?" asked Elrond with a inquisitively raised eyebrow.

"Yes, my Lord, Thranduil has crowned and immortalized the dwarf, Thorin Oakenshield to rule by his side."

The valley elves all found this news to be both shocking and intriguing.  They laughed and made jokes while Bilbo suddenly felt as if he had just fallen off the edge of a cliff.

The Hobbit King quickly began to stammer "Air... I... I need some _air_... Please excuse me... I just... need... some air."  He hadn't even thought about how strange he must have sounded, considering the fact that they were already outside.  He got up and shuffled down a stairway for several stories, away from the large balcony, until he could no longer hear their voices.

Elrond had promptly followed after him.  He knew exactly why his hobbit was all disheveled, and as always- he was able to soothe him back to happiness within moments.  "I know you had feelings for him and he hurt you... But please, try to remember that..."

Bilbo just _knew_ his husband was about to say something poetically beautiful, but the hobbit found himself doubling-over in laughter when Elrond confidently followed up with  "... _My_ cock is exponentially larger than _his."_

The Elven King scooped Bilbo up into his arms for a sweet, sensual kiss before taking him back to their room for the rest of the night.

"But what about our visitors?" asked Bilbo as he snuggled against Elrond's chest.

"The staff will see to it that they are all comfortably boarded.  There is nothing more for you to worry about tonight, my sweet King."

 

Over the course of the next few days, Bilbo actually enjoyed getting to know the wood elves.  They were different than the ones he knew in the valley.  He'd always been fascinated by _anything_ to do with elves and never tired of being surrounded by them.  The new twelve did not dress in shimmery robes, nor did they wear circlets upon their heads, as all the elves of Imladris donned on a daily basis. They seemed to value function, over form and were very connected to nature and every element there-of.

Feren had become _quite_ cozy with a beautiful valley elf of chocolate-colored hair and eyes, and vanilla-cream skin, who went by the lovely name of Lindir. 

As reserved and proper as Lindir was when in the presence of Elrond, Feren found him to be very naughty when they were alone.  Lindir loved screaming out Feren's name as he panted and begged for more.  They knew their time together might be short lived, but they were determined to make the most of it.

 

At the end of three days, horns were blown and the gates were ceremoniously opened to welcome the arrival Elros.  The King of Numenor had been accompanied by an escort of twenty young, sea elves.  Upon their entry into Rivendell, a casual celebration was held to honor their visit.  (Of course an elf's definition of 'casual', meant leaving no polished stone unturned, in the pursuit of immaculate perfection.)

Over the months, Bilbo had heard several stories of Elrond's twin brother, but actually _seeing_ them together was a surreal experience for the hobbit.  The Kings were precisely identical except for their robes, and especially their crowns.  Elros' was much bolder and more prominent, than Elrond's delicately-woven halo of golden ore.

Elros had laughed in delight when he heard about the upcoming battle against unknown forces of evil.  "Of course, I'm in!  My army has been bored to tears with no one to fight for centuries!"  Just then, a rogue seagull flew down and perched on Elros' waiting forearm.  The elf whispered to the bird for a moment, before it flew away, far from sight.  "They shall be here in one week, if that is not too long to wait," smirked Elros.

"Always the show-off..." sighed Elrond as he raised his glass in gratitude.

"What?  Some talk to thrushes, others ravens... even great eagles.  If you like my seagull, you should see my albatross!"

After a few light chuckles, Feren and his troop of wood elves thanked Elros profusely, for his added support.  They tingled with excitement at the idea of arriving at the gates of their Kingdom with not one, but _two_ elven armies behind their backs.

Elrond felt twice as powerful with his brother by his side.  With their royal-elven-twin-magic they were able to gaze into the bright, prismatic images put forth by Elrond's calcite podium to see the _true_ source of the problem.

Elros and his company of twenty stayed for the week before being joined by a staggering fleet of sea elves, who were all just as eager as the rest, to demolish the driving force behind such mutated spawns.

Bilbo was exceptionally nervous about not only the journey and upcoming battle, but the thought of confronting _Thorin_ \- after all this time, was something he dreaded, almost more than anything else.  It would have been awkward enough, under _any_ circumstance, but the fact that they were now respectively married to their own Elf Kings had Bilbo starting to feel faint.

"Come, my love... let us go to bed now," whispered Elrond as the late winter moon rose higher in the night sky.  The Kings of Imladris excused themselves from the table, leaving the remaining elves from all three Kingdoms to drink and enjoy each other's company.

Before Elrond and Bilbo were even gone, Feren and Lindir had slipped away, back to the royal butler's chambers just as they'd done every night since the wood elves' arrival.  Neither one dared admit it out loud, but both of the elves were beginning to feel that there was more than just a fling going on between them.  They knew Feren would be leaving soon and Lindir would have no reason to go with him unless they were an official couple.  With no idea how it could possibly work out, the elves simply enjoyed their time together and tried not to dwell on the subjunctive.

 

Elrond had made love to Bilbo three times over, leaving his hobbit trembling, and heaving for breath.  Bilbo curled up into Elrond's strong embrace and whispered in Quenya; "I love you so much... take me again, my King."  He knew the elf adored it when he spoke the beautiful language which he'd been fluent in, since his first taste of Elrond's immortal blood.

The Elven King was extremely responsive as he pulled Bilbo on top of him and whispered in elvish about how he could't wait to fill his hobbit's body over and over again.

Just as Elrond was lining his cock up to Bilbo's wet hole for the fourth time that evening, the perfect serenity of the moment suddenly came shattering down around them like planes of glass.

 _" WHAT _ IS GOING ON HERE?!  WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!?!" boomed the deep angry voice of the ebony-haired elf, who's face was an exact match to the bewildered-looking elf, who was naked, in bed with Bilbo.  His clothes and crown were the same as what Elrond had been previously wearing that day, causing Bilbo's jaw to drop.

The clothed elf continued to shout "How _DARE_ you pretend to be me, in order to bed my HUSBAND?!"

The other elf flung his long legs off the bed and stood up aggressively, not caring about, or even acknowledging his nudity.  _"HEY!!!_   I do NOT think so!!!  Don't listen to _Elros,_ Bilbo!"

His doppelganger ignored him as he crouched down by the hobbit and gently cupped the side of Bilbo's ghost-white face.  "Are you alright, my love?  I cannot _believe_ my brother would do this to us..."

Bilbo's world fell apart, his head spun, his heart sank and his stomach leaped up into his throat.  Did he _really_ just sleep with his husband's brother?!  The "Elrond" in front of him seemed so completely sincere, yet the "Elrond" he'd just been with, gave no indication of being any different than the elf Bilbo knew and loved.

As the twins began arguing, loudly over who was who, the hobbit was utterly panic-stricken.  His eyes darted back and forth between each one of them, until finally, the two brothers faced down in an intensely chilling stare, less than an inch away from one another.  They stood there, silent and brooding for several long, heart-pounding moments, not breaking eye-contact to so much as blink.

Then spontaneously, the clothed elf burst into laughter, closely followed by his naked counterpart.

"This was fun.  I'm going to go fuck with some more people!" chuckled Elros- most pleased with himself, as he strode out of the room, still clad in a copy of Elrond's attire. (Which he'd secretly commissioned earlier that day.)

Elrond shook his head and sighed.  "I must apologize for my brother's antics.  I'm afraid he's always been a bit of a harlequin..."

Bilbo's enormous, whimpering sigh of relief had Elrond laughing fondly as he re-joined his King in their bed.  They both continued to laugh for long while, as Elrond told Bilbo stories of the pranks he and his twin used to play on their adoptive fathers.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A little over a week later, the elves and hobbit were ready to launch into action.  At dawn, the armies charged through the land, on steady course for Mirkwood.

Lindir had made the impromptu decision to announce his desire to travel with them, much to Elrond's dismay.  Because Lindir had insisted on going, his younger brother, Figwit begged to tag-along as well.  Then the harp-player, Heledir spoke up and said "You'll need music for the journey!"  The latter two wanted to go, for nothing more than the sake of seeing what was beyond the valley, but Elrond was very hesitant to let the three gentle elves accompany them.  He only agreed after he saw the connection between his personal butler and the high-ranking soldier of Mirkwood, knowing he could not very well, say yes to Lindir, while denying the other two.  "The three of you may accompany us in our travels, but under no circumstance are any of you to participate in the battle at hand."  The elated elves assured Elrond that they had no interest in fighting and Feren had given his word to keep them all safe.  In seemingly no time, the troops were crossing into some very strange, and inhospitable lands.

 

The woodland realm perceived to be  _much_ less welcoming than what the sea and valley elves were accustomed to.  Bilbo sat, safely in front of Elrond, unaffected by the actual poison of their surroundings, yet he could still feel the sickness of the trees and rivers as they carefully made their way to the palace.

Just a few minutes into the forest, the elves suddenly found themselves confronted by hundreds of newly-hatched spiders.

"And these are only babies!!!" shouted Orelion as they swiftly hacked the creatures to bits.  

Bilbo, Lindir, Figwit and Heledir were all horrified, while Elros and the sea elves seemed to find the encounter to be most exhilarating.  The wood elves, along with the majority of the valley elves were strictly business as they efficiently wiped out the on-coming threat without even slowing down.

As they approached the gates just outside the palace, Feren blew his horn to announce their arrival.  

 

When the tall gates opened, Legolas, Kili, Elros, Galion, Fili and several knights stared in wide-eyed astonishment at the vast fleets of unknown elven soldiers as Feren proudly stated  "We've brought reinforcements."

The elves of Mirkwood were stunned to see Feren flanked by two identical Kings, one of whom had a crowned halfling settled protectively in his arms, atop the saddle of a jet-black stallion. 

After Feren and his troop dismounted their horses, the elves from the two other Kingdoms followed suit.  Quickly, more wood elves began to pour out of the palace to take the extraordinary influx of horses to the stables.  Dozens of large tents were pitched to accommodate the nearly two-thousand new animals, as the local elves raved about what a glorious victory they were sure to have.

Amidst the chaos, Feren had just begun to introduce the Kings, Elros, Elrond and Bilbo to Legolas, only to have Fili and Kili burst forth and shout  "BILBO!" - "Our burglar!" - "Look at Mr. Boggins!" - "A _King_ , now!" - "How have you been?" - "We never thought we would see you again!" - "You look splendid!" - "Is your hair longer?" - "I love these robes on you!" - "Come, lets get you something to eat!" -"Indeed, it's nearly noon and you must be completely exhausted..."  Their jubilant voices trailed off as the brothers swept Bilbo away into the palace, not giving a damn who might protest, _including_ Bilbo.

Feren had taken particular delight in introducing the King of Numenor to the key-holder of Mirkwood.  

The two newly acquainted elves were _very_ much intrigued by one another.  "It is an honor to stand in your presence, King _Elros_ ," said the wood elf as he bowed, respectfully.  "Mmm... I do believe the pleasure is all mine, Sir _Elros_ ," replied the King as he bowed in return and kissed the back of the guard's hand. 

Countless introductions later, Legolas had received word that his father and step father were ready to meet with their surprise visitors.

 

Thranduil and Thorin shared the throne, both clad in the Dwarf King's favorite ensemble of magnificent, glittering golden robes.  They boasted their most imperial expressions as their guests were presented before them.

"Ah, Thorin! I have not seen you in the better part of a year! Now, come down from there and give me a kiss, for old time's sake!"

Thorin looked innocently at Thranduil, then back at Elrond with a puzzled glare before the _actual_ Elrond stepped forward and said;  "Please forgive Elros, he does like to have his fun... Most often at the expense of unsuspecting victims." 

The subsequent laughter had effectively broken the tension between the Kings, especially when Thorin had heard something about Bilbo having already been taken to lunch by Fili and Kili.  He was extremely grateful to his nephews for buffering what would have no-doubt been a very awkward greeting.  The dwarf knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but at the moment, he was much more content in dealing with it _later_.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my characters.

The small troop of wood elves had been gone the majority of the winter, and over the course of that time, the Kings of Mirkwood had gotten into a very comfortable routine.  Now that things were in such sudden upheaval, the Dwarf King found himself feeling increasingly overwhelmed.

Thorin tried his best to match Thranduil's confident ambiguity as they slowly stepped down from the grandiose throne, to speak with the identical Kings, face-to-face. (Or in the dwarf's case, face-to-torso.)  Thorin remembered what Thranduil had said about not trusting Kings from other Kingdoms.  With the size of their armies, it would be all too easy for them to overtake Mirkwood and claim it for their own.  He already _knew_ Elrond was capable of just taking anything (or anyone) he wanted, regardless of how it might affect the lives of others.  He'd pretended to laugh at the duplicate's distasteful, little joke, but the way Elros was so bold and forthcoming, had Thorin wondering what his true motives were for being here.  No one in their Kingdom had even once brought up the idea of _Numenor_ joining in the battle, considering the ocean's distance between them, and the fact that the sea elves would have nothing to gain from such efforts.

Thranduil shared many of the same concerns as Thorin, but he did not have the same personal connection to the Kings of Imladris. That, combined with centuries of experience in ruling a Kingdom, gave the platinum-haired elf a sense of objectivity, which the dwarf could not possibly obtain.  Thranduil politely welcomed the visitors, informing them that there were plenty of rooms and amenities for their soldiers, before thanking them for their "most unexpected arrival."

The brunette elves were well aware that the Kings of Mirkwood felt caught off guard by their sudden intrusion.  Elrond began by telling Thranduil and Thorin about how their noble lieutenant, Feren had been an ambassador for their alliance, thus earning the young elf more credit than he actually deserved.  But the idea of one of his _own,_ having been responsible for the union, seemed to appease Thranduil.  He went on to explain how he and his brother had looked ahead and seen the underlying source of the the enemy's power.

The wood elves had already narrowed down the trail to Dol Guldur, but they did _not_  realize that an ancient and unearthly presence was ultimately to blame.  Upon hearing the name "Sauron," Thranduil's demeanor suddenly became much sharper, while Thorin was baffled.  The Dwarf King could not place where he'd heard that name for several moments until finally, he remembered something from long ago. 

As a very young Prince, Thorin had overheard his grandfather bragging to someone about one of his former lovers.  The King had mentioned something about how _'the fair and_ _beautiful Sauron'_ had given him an enchanted ring of gold and sapphire, which would _'ensure riches for decades.'_   Suddenly it all made sense.  The reason Thror had fallen victim to the gold sickness was a direct result of this evil entity, rather than a _'strain of madness,'_ or the actual treasure, it's self.  Even _Smaug_ couldn't be blamed for being instinctively drawn to such a vast hoard of unnaturally accumulated gold.  

Thranduil remembered how Sauron had tried to sway him in the past, but upon the Elf King's refusal to submit, the more powerful being had unleashed great, fire-breathing serpents from the north, in an effort to ensure that no one would ever love him, by ruining his perfect face.  At the time, Thranduil wished Sauron would've just killed him, but now he _did_ have love, and under  no circumstance would he let that long-dead spirit come back to haunt him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Galion said nothing, as he directed the group toward the royal dining hall.  The Kings had been much too consumed by their extremely serious conversation to notice how much time had gone by, until they smelled the savory aromas of freshly cooked food being placed upon the large table before them.  King Elros had insisted upon the guard, Elros sitting beside him at the table, which filled the key-holder with more pride than he'd ever felt.  Thranduil invited Feren and his "new boyfriend" to dine with them as well, causing the young couple to blush, as they sat down, side-by-side. Neither one of them had used that word before, so to hear someone else say it ever-so nonchalantly, had Feren and Lindir's hearts fluttering. 

Fili and Kili had finished giving Bilbo a tour of the palace just in time for dinner.  The brothers were excited to join the others at the exclusive table for table for twelve.  Kili bounced down beside Legolas, while Fili sat by Galion, and Bilbo took the empty chair next to Elrond. (Which just happened to be directly across from Thorin.)

Thorin's mind flashed back to that first dinner he'd had with Thranduil on their balcony.  His stomach growled, yet he had no appetite.  It felt uncomfortably strange to be in the presence of the current company.  He tried his best to ignore it, and just keep his focus on Thranduil and the topic they'd been discussing, every so often taking a moment to gaze at the jewel on his left ring-finger.

The hobbit was very glad he'd eaten a good lunch, because he felt extremely on edge, being around the one he'd walked out on so many months ago.  He didn't know what to say to Thorin, and he was afraid of what the dwarf might say to him, so he pushed his food around on his plate, trying not to look up.

After a few minutes, Elrond and Thranduil had noticed that neither of their husbands were eating.  Elrond placed a strong, reassuring hand on Bilbo's back, whereas Thranduil took a very different approach with Thorin.

"Must I teach you _again,_ how to operate an eating utensil?"  

The Dwarf King responded with disapproving frown, and a middle finger held directly in front of Thranduil's smirking face.  As the others laughed, the Elf King quickly grabbed onto Thorin's hand and ran his tongue up the dwarf's finger before wrapping his lips hotly around it.  He sucked all the way from he knuckle to the nail, leaving off with a soft, wet smack.

Bilbo's nose twitched as he averted his eyes in repulsion, embarrassment, jealousy or arousal... he wasn't really sure which, but he was _quite_ certain that his face was red enough, to be seen all the way from his former home in The Shire.

Galion, Fili, Kili, Legolas, Elros, Elros and Feren all chuckled loudly as they clinked glasses, while Elrond simply smiled at Bilbo. Secretly, he wondered if Thorin was as tenacious in bed as _Thror_ had been, nearly a century ago. 

Lindir was aghast by Thranduil's provocative gesture.  He could not believe the Kings of Mirkwood would behave in such a way at the dinner table, surrounded by guests.  The loyal attendant had felt odd enough sitting at the table to begin with, instead of supervising the staff.  Clearly, Thranduil's butler, Galion was used to dining with the Kings so Lindir tried to conform to being waited on by the polite, young elves, who were not afraid to laugh, and joke along with the royal party.  Indeed, things were _'very different in this Kingdom, than Imladris,'_ he thought to himself.  

The wine made it easier for Thorin and Bilbo to eat their food, although they still did not exchange so much as a word with one another.  Fortunately there was plenty of conversation to be had amongst the rest of the group, for anyone to actively take notice.  Several cheers were held in Feren's honor, along with questions and teases about his relationship with Lindir.  Galion was particularly loquacious as he went on and on about what an adorable couple they made.  He knew Feren's tastes better than anyone, and he could see that the refined, pretty, new, valley elf was his friend's ideal partner.

As plates were cleared away, and wine glasses refilled, the focus shifted to the two elves, which shared the same name.  The dungeon guard of Mirkwood would have been perturbed by such mocking, if the King of Numenor hadn't excused them form the table.  Whistles and hollers followed them down the bridge-way until there was nothing left to be heard but the King's soft whisper "They were not wrong...  I _want_ you, Elros."

 

"Mmmm..... Elros, my _King_..." panted Elros as he brought Elros into his bed-chambers.  The moment the doors closed, Elros took Elros in his arms and began kissing him up and down the neck as he spoke softly in Quenya, a language Elros only knew in fragments.  Elros whispered back in Sindarin, which Elros spoke fluently, as he did all languages.

The King took his time undressing the guard, yet he flung his own robes off, as if they'd been on fire.  Neither one of them could have possibly seen this coming, yet they were powerless to deny it.  Their attraction to one another had nothing to do with their names, nor the fact that one of them happened to be royalty- although it _did_ add a certain appeal. (Especially to Elros.)

The resident guard had fooled around with Galion and Feren on plenty of occasions, but it _never_ went further than oral administrations- and even _that_ had always felt tawdry and degrading to the scrupulous keeper of the keys.  This was _so_ much different.  Elros was a _King_ , one who was even older and wiser than Thranduil- one who touched him in ways he could not even begin to comprehend.  Never, had the young Elros allowed anyone entrance into his body before, but King Elros made it feel more enrapturing than anything the guard had ever experienced.

Ordinarily, there would have been eaves-droppers all around, but on this night, the entirety of the palace were all very busy with their own tasks- be they for business or pleasure.  The shouts of the guard and King echoed down the empty corridors as they enthusiastically called out _"Nnngh!_ Elros!" - "Elros! Yes,  _Ahhggh!"_ \- "Elros!" - "Elros!!!" - "ELLLROS!!!"

 

Feren and Lindir loved how they no longer had to wait until late at night to sneak off, together. For almost two weeks, Feren had spent the night in Lindir's room, but _now_ the butler would be sleeping in the guard's room- much to Feren's delight.  Now that their relationship had been acknowledged and approved by the Kings, the amorous elves were free to spend as much time together as they wished... at least for a while. They still weren't sure exactly what would happen once the battle was over, but one way or another, the elves were determined to make it work.

"Perhaps Lord Elrond would allow me to stay here for a few months, then you could come stay in Imladris for a while, then... uhgh... I know, it's a terrible idea."

"No, it is not, not at all.  I just... don't know if Thranduil would...  Actually- It doesn't even matter what the King would have to say- I'll run away with you if I have to!"

"Oooh, I love it when you talk like that!  And just where would you take me?  What would our lives be like?"

"Hmmm... Well I suppose we'd rifle a few horses and pack only our most important possessions.  I would steal you away in the dark of night, then we would follow the heavens to a land more warm, and beautiful than either of us have ever seen.  There would be tall, green trees, bright flowers, and sparkling rivers...  I would build us a nice, little cottage and some stables for the horses.  After only a few decades, our house will be large enough to call a _palace,_ and our horses will number in the thousands.  We will be the Kings of our own glorious Kingdom, and the birds would sing just for us..."

"Ahhh, that sounds absolutely sublime... Of course, if you were to be a _King,_ you would need the proper attire..."

"Oh, please- not _this_ again!"

"I'm only saying, you should dress in colors which bring out your gorgeous eyes.  And there is nothing wrong with a crown."  

"What if I choose to wear nothing at all?"

"Mmmm... yes, nothing is good.  Although, _almost_ nothing is better."

"You said it would only be for one night!"

"Oh, come on!  It looks so pretty on you!!!"

As Lindir placed his circlet upon Feren's head (for the dozenth night in a row) the guard rolled his eyes in concession.  "You're lucky I lo-"

"You... _what?"_  

"Kiss me, Lindir!" 

 

Elrond and Bilbo had (coincidentally) been granted the same luxurious suite in which Legolas had taken Kili for their first time together.  The hobbit thought he would have been much too distracted to have any interest in sex, during their first night in Mirkwood, but Elrond's slow, gentle movements had proved far too sensual for Bilbo to resist.  Somehow, it felt almost like their very first time together, in Rivendell.  Bilbo trembled in Elrond's embrace as his husband fucked deeply into him, one smooth thrust after another.

 

Thranduil and Thorin's night had resulted in hours of intense love making.  They had each other on the bed, on the balcony, in the bathtub, in front of the fire, then several more times in bed until their bodies were too exhausted to go on.  When the Kings finally collapsed, Thorin refused to let Thranduil's cock out of him as they drifted off into a comatose-like slumber.  Even though they were fast asleep, the elf and dwarf continued to move at a slow, rhythmic pace for the duration of the moon's orbit, until the sun shone once more.

 

Over the course of the following week, the three Kingdoms continued to plan for battle, and organize their defenses.  Thorin and Bilbo had grown accustomed to being in one another's presence during dinner, but throughout the rest of the day, the hobbit kept his distance.  Even over the table, they never spoke, nor made eye contact.   

At first, Bilbo hadn't even been sure as to whether or not, he was to be participating in the upcoming fight, but after hearing the others talk, he was more determined than ever to prove his worth as a King.  He'd been well-trained on how to use a sword and shield. -As such the hobbit saw no reason he shouldn't be on the battle field with the rest of them.  Bilbo even had his own suit of armor, which Elrond had given to him as a kinky "costume," but now he could actually put it to practical use, _and_ show it off to everyone as he did so.

 

The day before the armies were set to charge forth, a small group of sea elves had cautiously approached Thranduil and Thorin with a strange confession.

"We apologize for going behind your backs, your Majesties, but we dared not disturb the royal council."

"We realize it was not exactly our place, but we took it upon ourselves..."

"What happened was, we were looking for our horses..."

"Among the _many_  tents, stables, and barns..."

"But we opened up the wrong gate..."

"And there was this giant elk..."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at the elves as if piercing strait into their souls as he questioned them.  "Ceros! Is he alright? What have you done?!"

"We know we should have _asked_ , but everyone was just so busy..."

"He is a magnificent animal!"

"Spectacular!"

"Stunning!"

The Elf King was beginning to lose patience.  If he found out someone rode Ceros without his permission, Thranduil was about to lock some sea elves in the dungeon for the night.  Immediately, he started marching off to the elk's stable, as Thorin and the young elves followed quickly behind.

"Please don't be angry with us!"

"It's just that..."

"We couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to your beautiful Ceros!"

"We swear, we _would_ have asked..." 

"But he _really_ seems to like it!!!"

Their vague stammering continued until they got to the stable, where the Kings of Mirkwood gasped in surprise.

 

There was Ceros, standing proudly, with plates of elaborate, custom armor covering his entire, stature.

"We designed and built the light-weight suit to allow him full body protection and complete freedom of movement."

"Plus, we wanted him to _look_ good!"

"The sword-like 'antler helmets' were my idea... They started out as something merely decorative, but then I thought-"

Thranduil stopped their chatter with a subtle flick of his hand.  Thorin glanced up, expecting to see a look of cold wrath on his husband's face, but instead, he was floored to find the Elf King smiling brightly with twinkles of tears in the corners of his eyes.  Never had Thorin seen that look, outside of their bedroom.

Ceros pranced and strutted around, causing his armor to chime, melodically with each flamboyant step.

As Thranduil nodded his head, the sea elves all breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief.  Then, one of them spoke up, warning "There is _one_ problem though..."

The Elf King looked at the young soldier with concern, but a different one finished the statement "...Now he won't let us take it off!"

After a bit if much needed laughter, Thranduil thanked the elves several times over for their thoughtfulness and amazingly talented craftsmanship.  The sea elves modestly insisted it was nothing, and that it had taken no time at all, but Thorin- as a former blacksmith, knew they must have put an _enormous_ amount of effort in to completing such a meticulous task in such a brief amount of time.  Ceros was a  HUGE animal- nearly than twice the size of a moose.  The Dwarf King was _highly_ impressed... Even with the elves skill and magic, he couldn't imagine how they had been able to construct something so uniquely difficult.

For their selfless generosity, the sea elves were given public honors during evening announcements.  While countless elves cheered, King Elros laughed as he leaned close to Thranduil and Thorin.  "I cannot say I am surprised.  Believe it or not, I've actually caught those few trying to outfit _fish_ with armor... on several occasions. I'm  not joking."

The Kings, Princes, guards and knights all did their best to keep their spirits up, with the knowledge that many of them might not be alive to enjoy the next round of cheers and laughter.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Just before the sun rose on the next morning, the three fleets of warriors were armored, and ready to launch into action.

Thranduil had given Thorin an exquisite suit of silvery-black armor, which was (naturally) an exact match to his own.  Instead of tall crowns, the Kings had secured gleaming circlets onto the tops of their heads.  They wore long, flowing capes, which shimmered like the night sky as they fluttered upon the breeze.

Elrond and his brother donned identically built suits, but Elros' was an intimidating coppery-black, while Elrond's shone with metallic, golden light from every angle.

"Not bad," Thranduil had said of the brother's looks as he eyed them up and down.

Thorin smiled flatly at the twins, not wanting to acknowledge how strikingly sexy Bilbo's husband looked, draped in all that gold.

 

Thranduil teased Legolas for looking "decidedly less-than-fabulous."

"Will you not at _least,_ wear your tiara, my son?"

Legolas gave his father his best "go to hell" look, which came off as more of a bratty pout, than anything else.  

Thorin couldn't help but laugh at his step son's spoiled attitude, until Bilbo walked out, fully decked in elven armor.  The Dwarf King had not thought for one moment that the soft, little hobbit would be an active member of the fight.  Seeing the tiny King dressed in the same gilded armor as Elrond, (minus the boots) had Thorin's stomach doing flips.  

"Oh, don't you look precious!!!" squealed Kili as he took Bilbo by the hand and twirled him around in a circle.  The Durin brothers took turns dancing the hobbit around the room to songs they made up on the spot, as Bilbo giggled softly, before finding his way into Elrond's protective embrace.

Thorin huffed and declared it was time for them all to leave. 

"My brave King is right, let us be off!!!" confirmed Thranduil.

With that, horns were blown, gates were lowered and goodbyes were had between the warriors and those who were to stay behind in the palace.

"You'd better bring this back to me... I love it very much," sobbed Lindir as he fit his circlet onto Feren's head.

"I promise," whispered Feren as he kissed Lindir on his bare forehead. 

Naught but a moment later, the five Kings and their three united armies were in full stampede ahead, toward the gates of Dol Guldur to face hoards of monsters and their intangible leader.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my characters.  
> 

The sky was heavy and gray with thick overcast, on the first dawn of spring, as thousands of elves, three dwarves, and one hobbit raged southward to the gates of Dol Guldur.  Biting wind howled through the dead trees, blending in with the not-so-distant sound of approaching wargs.  The spiders' numbers were steadily increasing, and their webs became more prominent with each galloping step, but the elven armies would not be slowed down.  They obliterated the creatures, leaving nothing but shredded silk and body parts in their wake.  Even the oncoming orcs, upon their vicious wargs, were no match for the wood elves' arrows, the valley elves swords, or the powerful jousts of the sea elves.

Thranduil and Thorin rode taller than all the rest, aback the mighty, armored elk as they plundered onward.  The Elf King was quite certain that Ceros was having a _marvelous_ time, using his razor-tipped antlers to plow through the enemies by the dozens, even with the increasingly dense fog.

Suddenly the wind grew silent and still, while the orcs and spiders seemed to disappear into the foggy background.  The armies slowed their pace, as they gradually stepped into a clearing, wherein lied the ruins of Dol Guldur.  The ancient fortress was completely covered in sticky, white webs from top-to-bottom, giving off the dark, omnipresent aura of one, gigantic, seething entity.  

 

Deep inside the confines of the tower, Azog's cock was raging hard, as he anticipated the brutal killing of Thorin Oakenshield.  He'd failed twice in the past, but now he was more determined than ever, to wipe out the line of Durin.  The orc had seriously contemplated capturing the Dwarf King, along with the two young Princes and keeping them as his _personal_ slaves.  But Sauron had explicitly told Azog to take no prisoners, and the pale orc was not about to defy the orders of his disembodied Master.  The deeply-voiced command had been _very_ specific... So much-so, that Azog had no doubt the shadow could see strait into his mind.  There would be no way of hiding the dwarves from his Master, so he tried to focus solely on hacking them to pieces.  The thought of it was _almost_ as titillating as picturing all the ways he would defile them if they were locked in a cage. 

Countless times over the decades, Azog had imagined enslaving Thorin, and breaking him to the point that he would _beg_ for the orc's touch.  He wanted to see the dwarf down, on all fours, with chains binding his limbs, while he whimpered and cried for the pale orc to stuff his ass, and fill him with cum.

Azog absent-mindedly reached down and squeezed his balls, beneath his dwarf-leather loincloth, which did little to ease his throbbing erection.  For a few moments he considered having the dwarves' dead bodies brought back for him to play with.  As long as they were relatively intact, the corpses would stay warm for hours, and he might even keep them for a couple of days, until they started to rot... Afterwards, he would fillet their faces off, for a new garment to wear over his cock.  Then, the orc could stroke himself through the hole of Thorin's mouth, whilst watching his warg devour what remained of the royal lineage.  An evil grin spread across Azog's ashen face as he declared in black-speech "The Dwarf King's head belongs to ME!!!"

The surrounding orcs took their leader's statement as a cue to charge forth.  As troops of orcs burst through the silken, stone gates, hundreds more emerged from the darkness of the surrounding forest.  Spiders accompanied them by the fleets, appearing from all directions, as they closed in on the elven armies.

 

Thorin raised his sword high, while he shouted in Khuzdul, declaring war upon Sauron's mutated soldiers.  His call was echoed by a mixture of Sindarin and Quenya as he and his allies collided violently with wave, after wave of oncoming creatures.  Ceros bounded through the orcs, wargs and spiders, annihilating all who were in his path with no more than an effortless swing of his enormous antlers.  The elk used every bit of his newly forged accessories to his advantage, taking down hundreds in less than a minute until he suddenly refused to go any further.  Thranduil and Thorin were alarmed not only by Ceros' behavior, but the orcs around them seemed to stop in their tracks as well.

That's when they heard it.  A sound the wood elves, dwarves and orcs knew all-too-well.  The sea elves, valley elves and hobbit had never heard anything like it.  Thorin shouted over the crowd "Do NOT attack!!!  The beast is on _our_ side!!!"  Silently, he hoped that was true.

The gigantic bear wasted no time in tearing through the trees to get to the battlefield.  Beorn roared with echoing ferocity as he joined the war between good and evil.  He was not there to help the elves or dwarves, but he did have a vested interest in the termination of orcs- especially Azog.  He knew he would not likely get another opportunity like this, to destroy so many of the abominations, which he despised above all else.

Many of the elves were hesitant to hold their arms back, but they quickly realized that the Dwarf King was right, as the bear only seemed to target the enemies.  Beorn had no weapons, nor armor, yet he was more efficient than anyone else at bringing hoards of monsters to their deaths.  His deafening roars had the elves' horses bucking up, in an effort to expel their riders from their saddles.  Even Ceros grunted and squirmed in response, so Thranduil pulled Thorin off the elk's back with him, so they could fight on foot, allowing them all to make the most of their own defenses.  Many of the soldiers followed suit, which significantly upped the number of individuals on the battlefield.

Thorin and Thranduil's capes danced and twirled around them, following their motions, like waves of midnight water as they gracefully beheaded and eviscerated countless monstrosities.  The Dwarf King's body moved much more languidly and intuitively than it ever had, during any of his previous battles as he wielded his ancient elvish blade.  His immortal blood empowered him and connected him to Thranduil, making it feel as if they were one mind, with two bodies, who were capable of achieving any and everything. 

 

Legolas had taught Kili how to stride upon the heads of orcs as they shot arrows, streaming out, every which way.  "The trick is; don't look down! Keep your back strait, and your eyes focused on your targets!"

Kili found it to be _excellent_ advice.  He caught on so quickly, that he started keeping score and making a game out of how many orcs he could kill.  "That's nine more for me!" gloated the Dwarf Prince after shooting the pack down, using only three arrows.

Legolas used a dying orc as a surfboard, skimming over the others, as he released a series of seven, consecutive arrows, whilst calmly counting aloud "Fifteen... twenty two... thirty six..."

 

King Elros and the warriors from Numenor took great delight in finally being able to take part in the massacring of such a worthy adversary, while the peaceful valley elves sought only to win the battle, and return to their tranquil existence.

Still safely seated in the saddle with Elrond, Bilbo seemed to be the only one who noticed that it had started to snow.  The hobbit couldn't help but, take just a brief moment to ponder the white, fluffy crystals which drifted down, over the raging carnage all around them, like tiny, little feathers made of ice.

 

Galion kept his feet on the ground, but Fili rode high, atop the elf's shoulders.  His strong legs were locked tightly around Galion's upper body as they fought as one, four-armed unit, slicing their foes apart, several at a time.  Neither one were keeping score, but when Fili took the life of one orc, in particular- the tides seemed to shift rather dramatically.  The eldest Dwarf Prince didn't even realize he'd just killed Azog's only son, Bolg, until the other orcs around them all retreated as they gathered up the heir's body to bring it to their leader, within the fortress.

Moments later, the elven armies' winning streak came to an abrupt halt, when the pale orc came riding upon his white warg, out of the ruins with blood-thirsty vengeance fueling his every stride.  The fog thickened, and thousands of spiders, even larger then the previous, came pouring out over the walls of the ancient towers by the droves.  Black, winged creatures screeched as they flew overhead, diving and clawing at anything which was not a spawn of evil.

"Azog," growled Thorin as his gaze narrowed on that of the orc's.  Without looking back, he marched toward the enemy, gaining speed with each determined stomp.

Thranduil had tried to stop him, but the bats and spiders were just too numerous for the Elf King to fight his way through. The copious amounts sticky silk had him trapped, unable to do anything more than slash and stab at those who were in his immediate vicinity.

None of the others were capable of making much headway, either.  Only Ceros and Beorn were strong, and well-equipped enough, to shred through the tough fibers of the monstrous arachnids.  The valiant animals worked, tirelessly to keep the paths clear, allowing the armies to move forward as much as possible.

Azog stopped cold when he saw the Dwarf King striding, expeditiously towards him.  He wouldn't take any chances this time.  Thorin belonged to _him_ _-_  and no one else.  The pale orc slid off the rigid back of his winter-colored warg, to face his prized opponent, one-on-one.

Unbeknownst to Azog, his warg had been torn to bloody ribbons by one sure swipe of Beorn's massive claws, right behind the orc's back.  The bear had tried to get them both, but he wasn't able to get through the suffocating webs quickly enough.  They were getting denser by the moment, and he could see several elves already spun into cocoons, so he shifted his focus to clawing and biting through the silk to free the trapped soldiers.  He did it, not because he had any concern for the elves, but out of sheer desire to defeat his former captor, and the malevolent beings, which served him.

The Dwarf King shouted at the top of his lungs as he dove for the pale orc, with his shield up, and sword drawn.  He managed to put a deep laceration in Azog's side, but the wound was not fatal.  

The orc retaliated by swinging is bladed hammer down, sending sparks of fire flying outward from the stone, only inches away from Thorin's head.  He roared as he missed his target, time and time again.  Now that he was close enough, Azog could smell the stench of _elf,_ permeating from within the dwarf's body.  It completely explained how the King was able to move so fast and endure so much.  He didn't understand why Sauron had not warned him of Thorin's transformation, but there was no time to think about it.  The giant orc growled a command to the closest, surrounding spiders.

 

Bilbo was feeling increasingly helpless as the creatures continued to close in on them, but then he remembered something that Gandalf had said to him, back in the Shire, and suddenly, he had an idea.  He told Elrond not to worry, then an instant later, he was off the horse, no where to be seen.  The hobbit was the only one small enough to snake beneath the creatures and their webs.  Like an invisible phantom, he thrust his weapon upward, annihilating them stealthily, while also freeing dozens of elves from their confines before any one could see him.  Bilbo had noticed that many of the spiders he stabbed with his sword, seemed to cringe up, almost as if the blade had _stung_ them.  For a split-second, he thought of giving his sword the name of "sting," but then quickly realized that would have sounded ridiculous.  Then, suddenly the perfect name popped into his head. _'Phantom Stranger,'_ he thought.  Feeling more spurred on than ever, the Hobbit King kept fighting, all the way to the gates of the ruins.

 

Azog cackled deeply, as he stepped closer to the incapacitated Dwarf King.  Two colossal spiders had Thorin's body pinned, and vulnerable to the orc's devastation.  Azog's icy blue stare burned with lustful hate for Thorin, as he savored the moment, slowly lining up the blade which constituted the lower-half of his left arm, to the dwarf's throat.

The spiders which held him, tightened their vice-like grips, until spontaneously, each beast released it's hold and fell down, dead on top of the Dwarf King.  Thorin didn't know what had killed them, but he acted as fast as he could to free himself from beneath their cumbersome bodies.

The pale orc was completely caught off-guard by Thorin's escape, which gave the dwarf just enough time to climb up, on top of one of the slain spiders and swing his sword true to it's mark.

Azog, the defiler's head spun on his shoulders for a slow, dream-like moment before falling off, onto the cold stone, below.  Then the orc's legs gave out, sending his body crashing down, knees first, with a hard and thunderous echo throughout the web-encased tomb of Dol Guldur.

Thorin felt his heart pound like a drum within in his chest, almost in disbelief that he'd finally brought justice to his family.  The Dwarf King yelled out, in victory as he stabbed his sword into Azog's skull and held it up high, for all to see.

 

Abruptly, as if an ancient dark-curse had been lifted, the clouds broke apart, and the bright, spring sun shone brilliantly, down upon the battlefield.  All of the spiders instantly curled up and died, while the bats fell from the sky, as they hissed their last breaths.  The webs, which covered everything in sight, began to dissolve all around them and the fog lifted to reveal the clear paths ahead.

The remaining orcs were so horrified by the sight of their leader's severed head upon the tip of the Dwarven King's sword, that they began screaming at each other in their primitive language to "retreat and fall back."  But the elves would show no mercy.  Every single orc and warg was violently eradicated, coating the earth in thick, black blood, and mangled body parts.

Ceros immediately found his way back to Thranduil, where they rode to meet Thorin at the entrance of the tall, stone gates.  The Elf King pulled Thorin onto the elk's back and braced him up as the dwarf shoved Azog's head, vertically onto a sharp, iron spike at the front of the dead fortress.  Afterwards, the Kings of Mirkwood shared a deep, sensual kiss before of a myriad of onlookers.

Bilbo was quite certain that he'd actually helped to tip the scales in favor of the elves and dwarves, but the hobbit was not one to seek glory for his accomplishments.  He tried to get back to Elrond before anyone noticed where he'd been, or what he'd done.  Soon, the hobbit was back in the strong, warm embrace of his elven husband, applauding along with the rest of the fleets. 

Triumphant shouts and cheers bellowed throughout the battle grounds and horns were blown in celebration, several times over.  The three armies rejoiced over the fact that none of their own had been sacrificed in the winning of this war. 

Beorn snorted in satisfaction before turning to leave the scene.  The armor-less bear had several deep flesh wounds and was limping on one of his front paws.  He was anxious to return to his human form, so he could take the weight off of it, and make his way back to the carrock to mend his injuries.

Kili had caught sight of Beorn leaving, and started to run after him.  Legolas tried to pull the dwarf back, but Kili was already calling out to the bear _"Beorn!_ Please, don't go! You must come and celebrate with us!"

Instinctively, the wounded animal turned and growled at Kili, which startled the young Prince so much, he nearly cried.  Legolas jumped in front of Kili, positioning himself between the dangerous bear, and the innocent dwarf.  The Elf Prince kept his voice extremely soft and calm as he whispered to Beorn, in Sindarin  "My friend, you are hurt, please let us help you.  We are very much in your debt."

Legolas had been communicating with wild animals his entire life, but this was a _very_ different situation.  He tried not to show how nervous he was, as he held his ground and avoided eye-contact, all while protecting Kili from the creature who'd been their ally, only minutes ago.

Beorn made a strange sound, which was more like a groan, than a growl.  Then the bear began to change shape, and his fur disappeared from the majority of his body, leaving a tall, muscular, naked man in place of the beast.  "Thank you, but I'm quite sure I can manage.  You, and your kin owe me nothing," said Beorn, somberly.

Fili had looked over, just in time to witness Beorn's transformation.  He scrambled down from Galion's shoulders to greet the giant, and thank him for his invaluable help.  Fili wasn't sure why, but he was shocked to see the huge man, standing there, completely, and _magnificently_  nude- except for his wrist cuff.  The dwarf couldn't help but take a moment to admire Beorn's stunning male body, and nearly foot-long flacid cock.  When Galion caught up, his first reaction was to keep his eyes on the ground as he bowed, in respect to the towering man.

The Durin brothers spoke quickly, back and forth, then in unison as they begged the skin-changer to go back with them. 

"Please, Mister Beorn! We couldn't have done it without you!"

"Yes, please come back with us... at least for a little while."

"The elves can heal you- it won't take long, we promise!"

"And you should be part of our celebration!"

"You've _got_ to be there!"

"Pleeease, Mister Beorn!!!"

Finally, Beorn gave in, and allowed himself to be lead into the crowd.  

The moment King Elros spotted the bloodied giant amongst them, he immediately whistled for his brother. 

Elrond and Bilbo joined Elros at once, as they made their way to the injured man.  The twins wasted no time with introductions, as they dismounted their horses and began surveying Beorn's various cuts, bites, scratches, burns and dislocations.  The brothers whispered to one another in Quenya as they assessed the damage and concluded that (with Beorn's permission) they could heal most of his wounds right there, on the spot, but his left wrist would need further mending, which would have to be done at the palace in Mirkwood.  "I am afraid it's fractured in three places," said Elrond.  Elros agreed, adding "This iron cuff probably saved your hand from being severed all-together, but it will have to come off, if we are to fix the bones beneath it."

Beorn silently nodded, with a strange mix of emotions.  He hated elves and dwarves, but he knew they were right.  He also knew it was finally time for him to let go of the past.  The cuff on his wrist had been there since Azog first put it on him, so many decades ago, and he'd kept it as a reminder of what he'd endured and what his family had suffered.  The binding, metal piece had even become such a part of who he was, that it shifted with him, when he changed forms.  But now, the orc was dead, so there was no reason for him to keep looking back.  Inwardly, he noted the irony of the slave-cuff, having kept his hand from being chopped off, which would have rendered him a left-armed amputee, just like Azog had been for the last sixty years.  

Without further conversation, Elrond and Eros both took off their capes and draped them around the man's naked form, in an attempt to make him feel more comfortable as they started to chant words of ancient magic.  Bilbo took off his own cape and offered it to Elrond, to make a sling for Beorn's arm.

Once the giant's arm was securely bound, and his wounds were healed enough for him to move with only minimal pain, Elros offered Beorn the use of one of his sturdiest horses, which the man emphatically denied, siting that he would "crush the poor thing."

"Well you _must_ keep up, somehow, if we're to reach the palace before nightfall..." said a deep voice from atop the crowd.  Thranduil smiled as he patted Ceros' head, while looking slightly down at Beorn.  Thorin chuckled and said "My husband is not one to take 'no' for an answer... _trust_ me!"  

Less than a minute later, Thranduil and Thorin were snugly seated upon the back of a swift stallion, while Beorn did something he'd never done before, in all his centuries of existence.  Not once in his life, had the bear-man used an animal for the purpose of his own transportation, but Ceros had accompanied him throughout the battle, and was more than strong enough to support Beorn's human body.   

The skin-changer found that he was extremely fond of riding through the forest, without having to use his own feet.  With each passing step, he let more, and more of his emotional bricks tumble, by the wayside as he smiled, and joined along with celebratory songs, which they all sang, merrily on their way to the Kingdom of Mirkwood. 

Even before their arrival, it had already been decided and agreed upon that, from now on, this- the first day of spring would henceforth be known as the Day of Kings.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I re-named Bilbo's sword after a Rob Zombie song. (Return of the Phantom Stranger) I just can't watch the movies without getting a mix of his music stuck in my head! If you haven't seen the video for that song, watch it, and you'll understand why. ; )
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> Now, as to why Sauron has not been more active in this particular battle:  
> He's very distracted right now. He and Morgoth are renovating their dungeon and can't seem to settle on a color scheme. Sauron wants black and hell-fire, while Morgoth thinks it should be inconceivable darkness and death.  
> Their constant bickering only serves to increase when they realize what shitty contractors orcs make.  
> "The bottomless pit was supposed to be on the OTHER side! -The torture chamber has absolutely NO feng shui, and I KNOW those are NOT the brimstone tiles we picked out!!!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my characters.  
> 

Upon returning to the woodland realm, Thranduil could not believe his twinkling, blue eyes.  Thousands gasped in awe, at the sight of the dark, shadowy forest having been transformed back into the bright, beautiful, green Kingdom of nature it had once been, long ago.

"Ada... our _home_..." whispered Legolas as he put his hand on his father's shoulder.

Thranduil was speechless, as he topped his son's hand with his own, while squeezing his other arm tightly around Thorin.

A diverse choir of birds sang melodically, in the trees as swarms of bright, shiny, blue butterflies fluttered all around the forest, drinking in the sweet nectar of countless, colorful flowers, pollinating each blossom, one-by-one. 

The golden-pink light of the setting sun glittered down though the lush, green canopy in warm, incandescent rays, causing all of the warriors' armor glow brilliantly as they made their way to the palace.  The elves' silence had soon given way to a cacophony of cheers and laughter as horns of victory were blown, to announce their arrival. 

Once the gates opened, all who had stayed behind, came running out to meet the Kings and soldiers, in the hopes that no one had been maimed, or killed.  They were all overjoyed to find every warrior alive and well.  Lindir had raced through the crowd to find Feren, and when he did, he could not hold back his emotions.  The two young elves from different lands wept with jubilation, as they held each other tightly and declared their love for one another, over and over again. 

Amidst the chaos, Elrond had purposefully let it slip to a few of the others, that it was _Bilbo_ who'd courageously saved the Dwarf King's life, thus allowing Thorin to kill the pale orc.  As word of the halfling's heroics spread, Bilbo was none-the-wiser, until Fili and Kili had told their uncle what they'd heard.

Thorin began shoving his way through elves from all Kingdoms, until he found Bilbo and boldly confronted him.

Bilbo was stunned.  He and Thorin hadn't spoken to one another since last summer, and he couldn't possibly imagine what the dwarf could have to say to him now.  He was quite certain he hadn't committed any major faux-pas today, and saw no reason to be belittled and berated in front of everyone. (Which was _obviously_ Thorin's intent.)

"YOU! Did I not say that you would be a burden? -That you were lost, and would never survive in the wild? And that you looked like a grocer?" boomed the Dwarf King, effectively silencing everyone around him.

The hobbit stood still, not knowing what to think, let alone how to respond.  His eyes darted around, in search of Elrond, but then Thorin surprised the wits out of Bilbo, when he followed up his statement with "I have never been so wrong... in _all_ my life!"  

Thorin flung his arms around Bilbo, pulling him into a full-bodied embrace as he unconsciously inhaled the sweet, honey-apple scent of Bilbo's golden hair.  Fili, Kili, Beorn, and all the elves laughed and cheered once more for the reconciled Kings.  The dwarf could have stayed there, in that magical, sunlit moment for ages, but after a few seconds, he forced himself to release the hobbit's body, while keeping his hands on Bilbo's shoulders.  "I am sorry I ever doubted you, your Majesty."

Bilbo fought back tears as he told Thorin that he didn't blame him, and assured him there were no hard feelings.  

As the butterflies continued to swirl around them, Thorin put his hand on the back of Bilbo's neck, and began to pull the hobbit's face closer to his own.

Bilbo's heart nearly stopped in his chest as he felt himself being drawn in for a kiss.  He was unable to move, speak, or breathe, so he just let his eyes fall closed and waited for it to happen, even as both of their husbands looked on. 

Thorin did not hold back.  With a loud thud- he crashed his forehead into Bilbo's, then began laughing fondly as the hobbit rubbed his head in confusion.  "It's a dwarvish tradition amongst brothers in arms to head-butt, as a sign of honor and comradery," he explained with a sly smile.

The elven soldiers all chuckled as they began tapping their heads to one another's, while little pink and white flower petals floated down from the trees, above.

 

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Once everyone was inside the palace, Elrond and Elros took Beorn into a private room to heal his more complicated injuries.  With the added enchantment of the forest around them, it only took a few minutes to remove the man's wrist-cuff and fuse the broken bones back together.  They'd also healed a few cracked ribs and even a chipped canine tooth.  Just as Beorn was thanking them, there came an unexpected knock on the door.

Elros opened it, to reveal the same group of sea elves who'd made the armor for Ceros, standing there, holding a variety of gigantic garments.

"We made these for the bear-man." 

"Yes, we _hope_ they will fit- since we had no time for proper measurements..."

"And we don't know his tastes, so we made a few different designs..."

"We would have come up with more, but-"

Elros interrupted the elves by inviting them into the room, but he did not have time to introduce them before they began gushing over the skin-changer.  They all clamored to tell him how magnificently he fought, and how much they admired him in _both_ his forms.

Beorn's head was spinning as he tried to keep up with the way they all talked at once.  He couldn't believe they had made so many articles of clothing for him in the short amount of time it had taken for the twins to heal his wounds.  Even more surprising, was how well-tailored and beautiful the clothes were.  Once Beorn found out these elves had built the elk's armor, it seemed to make a bit more sense.  The giant had never had so much attention lavished upon him before, and couldn't help but grin from ear-to-ear, as he stood still and allowed himself to be out-fitted with the finest fabrics he'd ever worn.

The smitten, young elves squealed in delight at the sight of the enormous, bearded man covered in shimmering robes, fit for royalty.  They stayed by Beorn's side, well-into the evening, as the Kings and their armies celebrated their victory within the glorious halls of Greenwood. 

 

Lindir, Figwit, and the others, who'd not been part of the battle, were riveted by stories and demonstrations of the fight's most harrowing moments, while the five Kings continuously toasted to one another. 

Legolas and Kili teasingly argued with each other, over who'd won their orc-killing contest, even though they had both lost count after the second half.

As the wine and laughter flowed through the palace, Elros of Numenor stunned everyone into a state of silence when he stood up and bowed to the Kings of Greenwood.  "Your Majesties, I would like to ask if you might allow your valiant guard to accompany me back to my Kingdom?" he said as he winked at Elros.

Thranduil smirked and said coolly "Do you not have enough guards of your own?"

Elros then turned his full attention to Elros and replied "I've more than enough guards, but... I am quite without a _King,_ to call my own."

The younger Elros couldn't believe his ears.  He leaned in and whispered "My Lord, what are you saying?"

King Elros chuckled loudly, as one of his elves handed him a crown, which matched the one on his own head.  He presented it to Elros and said "On this, the Day of Kings, I ask you, Sir Elros of Greenwood, to be mine...  Will you accept?"

The trembling guard lowered his head and allowed Elros to crown him.  When he looked up again, the entire palace was cheering and shouting "Long live King Elros and King Elros!!!" 

 

With the festivities having reached a new height, everyone in the palace was eager to make the most of their time together.  After several hearty rounds of wine, and congratulations, the Kings of Numenor were the first to disappear from the crowd, followed by the Kings of Imladris, then finally the Kings of Greenwood. 

Feren rushed Lindir off to their own chambers, while Galion took Fili away.  Even Legolas and Kili were nowhere to be seen, amongst the throngs of smiling faces.

Beorn had found it impossible to argue with his little harem of sea elves, as they lead him away to a secluded room, which had a bed, large enough to accommodate all six of them.  He hadn't been touched in any sort of sexual way, since it was forced upon him by Azog, but these sweet, nature-loving elves were not just interested in a cheap thrill- clearly they had a genuine fascination with the skin-changer, and _ no_ reservations about expressing it.

Figwit swooned, as Eredhon serenaded him with his sitar, beneath the moonlight. They'd only just started getting to know each other, but their relationship had already deepened to the point of never wanting to ever say goodbye to one another.  Figwit truly hadn't planned on meeting anyone on this trip, but he figured if his brother could fall in love with a wood elf, there should be no reason for _him_ to hold back.  But just as with Lindir and Feren, the young elves knew there would be a tough decision for them to make, very soon.

Heledir spent the night in Meludir's room, just as he'd done since his arrival into Greenwood.  They'd never once tried to make a secret of their romance, and had every intention of staying together, no matter which Kingdom they were in.

On that night, everyone in the palace was so overjoyed, that not one bed was slept in alone.  Though, none made love more passionately than the three Kingly couples, each in their separate chambers.

As usual, Elros and Elros couldn't get enough of each other, but the knowledge that they would be spending the rest of their lives together, gave the experience a much more enigmatic quality.  They felt like they were the only two elves in all of Middle Earth, almost as if the stars had aligned just for them, and them alone.  "I love you _Elros,_ my _KING!"_ moaned the dark-haired elf, followed by an immediate echo from the newly-crowned, young King.  They repeated the words countless times throughout the night, as they took turns fucking deeply into one another's warm, writhing bodies.

 

In Elrond and Bilbo's guest suite, the Elven King marveled at the beauty and bravery of his beloved, little Hobbit King.  He told Bilbo over and over again how proud he was to be married to such an amazing husband, warrior, and hero.  Bilbo had tried to remain modest, but he couldn't deny that he quite liked being referred to as a "hero."  He left the top-half of his armor on, as his small body bounced up and down over Elrond's long, thick cock.  The blood-stained metal clinked softly with each rhythmic gyration of the hobbit's hips against his King's hot flesh.

 

Upon entering into the chambers of the rulers of the palace, Thranduil bowed to Thorin with a deeply sincere gesture of respect, admiration and love.  "Thorin Oakenshield, you have defeated the pale orc, and ensured the safety of every living creature in this Kingdom, as well as the homes of our allies and friends.  No words could begin to express how grateful I am to have you as my eternal King."

Thorin breathed in deeply, savoring the pride and power he felt in that moment.  It did not matter how he'd gotten to this point, he knew everything was exactly as it should be.  With Azog dead, Sauron would never be strong enough to come after any of them, ever again, and the dwarf was free to enjoy the rest of his days in bliss, with Thranduil.  Thorin lifted the Elf King's chin, so they were at eye-level, before kissing him slow, and sensually.  Afterwards, Thorin whispered against Thranduil's lips "Please, my love, show me your face."

The Elf King blinked his eyes open in astonishment.  He'd gotten used to unmasking his face when he and Thorin were alone in their room, and this night had been no exception.  "I am..." said Thranduil with confusion in his voice, while his immaculate skin and matching blue eyes remained exactly as they appeared under the illusion of elven magic.  Quickly he stood up and looked in the mirror.  "They're _gone_... My scars are... gone!  I do not understand..." exclaimed Thranduil, nearly choking on the statement as it left his perfectly formed lips.

Thorin was equally baffled (and secretly somewhat disappointed) by the sudden disappearance of the elf's deeply damaged tissue and ruined eye.  He'd decided it would be best not to question it, but rather to make light of the situation by saying "I suppose that is what happens when you enslave someone, make them fall in love with you, defeat legions of evil together, and reign side-by-side for all time..."

Thranduil could not think of anything adequate enough to follow up with, so he just smiled and began kissing his Dwarven King with leisurely, drawn-out rapture as they stripped each other down, to reveal the smooth, porcelain skin of one King, contrasting boldly, against the thickly-haired bulges of muscle, belonging to the other.  Both Kings felt the effects of the day's battle pooling into a hot brew within their balls as they fell back, onto the soft, springy mattress behind them.

The dwarf's dark, wavy hair cascaded over either side of the back of the elf's head, mixing with his strait, blonde strands.  Having lost all measure of patience, he began to work his saliva-slicked cock into Thranduil's lean body.

The Elf King moaned Thorin's name, as his asshole clenched and spasmed, clinging to Thorin's dick, like a wet suction-cup while the Dwarf King drove himself in, deeper and deeper.

It was not long, before Thorin's movements had escalated into a wild, erratic motion of pure, unadulterated lust and passion.  He arched his body, upright, staring down at the ring on his left hand as he gripped Thranduil's hips, and pounded into him viciously, with the overwhelming need to come.

The Kings cried out together, every bit as loudly as they'd done on the battlefield, as they felt their bodies surrendering to the most powerfully intense orgasms either one had ever experienced.  Thick jets of cum ripped through their cocks in seemingly endless waves, causing them both to collapse into a heaving entanglement of quivering limbs and sweat-soaked bodies.

Within minutes, Thranduil and Thorin were making love once more, and calling out each other's names, with absolutely no intention of stopping, or slowing down for the rest of the night.

A euphoric enchantment had befallen the entire Kingdom of Greenwood, as every person, animal, insect, and plant flourished in a magical, moon-lit glow of life and prosperity.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The days ahead brought nothing but happiness and joy to the palace, until it grew time for the visiting Kingdoms to return to their homes in other realms. 

Beorn was the first to announce his departure, with the indisputable fact that his farm could not run it's self for very much longer.  He had expected his gathering of sea elves to be saddened by their inevitable parting of ways, just as he felt himself, but he soon realized that would not be the case.  Instead, the group of elves said their goodbyes to the Kings and army of Numenor. 

The elder Elros gave the young elves a stern look, before asking them "Are you _sure_ this is alright with Beorn?"

Even though they'd discussed nothing of the sorts, the bear-man answered for them "Of course, I would be honored for them to stay with me for as long as they choose." 

A few days after Beorn left with his new family, more farewells were had by the rest of the Kingdoms.  Galion and Feren were hard-pressed to part with their longtime companion and "partner in crime" but they also could not be happier for the former captain of the guards, who's dream of becoming a King had finally come true.  

Lindir had decided that his services could be put to better use in Greenwood, than in Rivendell, so he opted to stay in the forest with Feren.  He found it difficult to say goodbye to Elrond, Figwit, and everyone else from the valley, but at least Heledir had chosen to stay as well, so he would not be the only new resident.

Eredhon joked about having exchanged one musician for another, as he decided to go to Imladris with Figwit.

Once everyone had sorted out which Kingdom they wanted to stay in, they all promised they'd see each other in a year's time to celebrate the Day of Kings as an annual holiday.  A few hours of tears, hugs, congratulations and salutations later, had the palace in Greenwood back to it's normal capacity of elves, although they were now a blended mix from all three Kingdoms.

Soon, the woodland realm had fallen into a very easy daily routine of fishing, hunting, gathering, and tending to the ever-thriving forest which surrounded them. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

By late winter of the following year, preparations had been made in the palace for the upcoming reunion of the allied Kingdoms.  As Thranduil and Thorin's highest ranking adviser, Lindir had been essential in the planning and organizing of the event, as he saw to every detail with utmost scrutiny.  

Wine and food were more plentiful than ever, while flowers bloomed everywhere, both inside and outside the vast, glowing halls, giving the air an enchantingly light, sweet fragrance.  Lindir made sure that _everyone_ looked their best, in exquisitely tailored robes and shimmering circlets, and had seen to it that the cooks, musicians and waitstaff were all poised and ready for at least two thousand visitors.

On the sun-filled morning of first day of spring, Thranduil and Thorin wore dazzling silken robes, the same color of brilliant turquoise, as the butterflies which flitted about the land.  Their crowns were made from magically-infused vines of jasmine and honeysuckle.  The small, aromatic flowers encircled the Kings' heads like ethereal halos, while the butterflies acted as living jewels upon the delicate blossoms. 

 

Elrond and Bilbo were the first to arrive, accompanied by a fleet of familiar faces, including Beorn and the "elves of the carrock." (Whom they'd met up with, half-way through their travels.)  

Thorin did not hesitate to hug Bilbo, and tell him how good it was to see him again, while Elrond embraced Thranduil and thanked him for his hospitality. Soon they switched, so Elrond held Thorin in his arms, as Thranduil crouched to greet Bilbo with a firm squeeze around the shoulders.

Lindir was thrilled to see his little brother again, along with Elrond and so many others he'd missed over the past year.

Before long, the palace was filled with hundreds, upon hundreds of excited voices, ringing and echoing through the halls, until the sound of elven horns broke through, to announce the arrival of the Kingdom of Numenor.

As Kings Elros and Elros made their way through the gates of Greenwood, they brought with them, an immense army of sea elves, along with a _very_ select group of unexpected guests.

 

None were more astounded than Thorin, Fili and Kili, when the troops of elves parted back to reveal eleven, broadly smiling dwarves, standing in the middle of the large crowd.

The surprise visitors shouted at the tops of their lungs as they enveloped their Dwarven King and Princes.  The fourteen of them exchanged loud, cheerful greetings as they took turns twirling each other about, and crashing their foreheads into one another's.  "Your Majesty, I dare say it has been _far_ too long!!!" articulated Bifur as he head-butted Thorin with unmatched enthusiasm. 

Fili and Kili bounced up and down, around the newly healed dwarf, who no longer carried an axe blade in his skull, while Bifur beamed up at Kings Elros and Elros with a look of sheer gratitude shining within his tear-filled eyes.

The next dwarves to take the spot-light were Dwalin and Ori, who admitted to Thorin that they'd been happily living together as a couple for the past year, thus earning another round of head-butts from the exuberant Dwarf King, and several of the wood elves.

Bofur shouted in delight when he finally caught sight of Bilbo amongst the steady influx of rejoicing arrivals.  He scooped the hobbit up, and spun him in a series of circles, sending Bilbo's bare feet flying back behind him, while breathing in the sweet scent of apples and honey.  The moment Bofur planted Bilbo back onto his own feet, he suddenly felt a cool draft flow through his hair.

"There's my cheeky, little dwarf!" burst Orelion as he snatched Bofur's hat, and placed it upon his own head.  An instant later, Orelion had Bofur in his arms and was kissing him in a most declarative way in front of thousands of cheering spectators.

Gloin clutched firmly onto his son's shoulders and lead him through the crowd to introduce him to the most important elves.  

"Well, now- just who is this lovely, young gentleman?" cooed Legolas as he bent down to kiss the back of the unknown dwarve's hand.

Gloin's eyes twinkled in amusement as he proudly declared "This be me goblin-mutant, Gimli."

Legolas almost blushed, but Kili squealed with excitement "Don't worry Mister Gloin, we'll take _very_ good care of your sweet Gimli, won't we, my Prince?" 

Before anyone could answer- let alone object, young Gimli had been swept away by Legolas and Kili, into the boisterous collection of personalities from all around the land.

Elrond laughingly embraced his twin whilst teasing "You just had to go and upstage my grand entrance, didn't you brother?" 

"Actually, it was my husband's idea!" said Elros, which came as a pleasant shock to Galion and Feren, who knew how much their old friend detested the dwarves.  

Thousands of happy voices blended together into an endless symphony of warm greetings and increasingly robust laughter as the celebration carried on into the evening hours.  A magnificent feast was held in honor of the previous year's victory in Dol Guldur while the stories were told over and over again, with plenty of theatrical re-enactment.  

The visiting dwarves (except for Gimli) still felt a bit uneasy around Thranduil, until they'd finally had enough food, drink, and time to realize how much the Elf King had changed since his marriage to Thorin.  They could see that this was _not_ the same tyrant who'd imprisoned them- _This_ version of Thranduil was friendly, light-hearted and very fun to be around.  Soon they were laughing just as loudly, while telling their own stories and jokes as they all clinked their steins and glasses together.  Wine, ale, and even some specially procured bottles of fine liquor flowed throughout the palace, late into the night, with no sings of slowing down.

Many of the elves from Imladris requested to hear Bofur sing his "Man in the Moon" song- to which they, the dwarves, and Bilbo all merrily sang along with, while stomping their feet to the rhythm, and throwing bread and salad greens at him.  Just as Bofur was bowing at the end of the song, Kili threw a pastry at Lindir (as was customary) but this time, Lindir caught it and threw it back, only to have Kili duck, causing the tart to hit Legolas square in the chest.  The Elf Prince pretended to get upset about having his "most beautiful royal attire" soiled by sweet stickiness.  "Mmm, well I suppose you'll just have to take it off, then!" purred Kili, as he dragged his finger through the frosting and brought it up to his lips.  Legolas grinned wickedly as he said "Perhaps I shall require the assistance of _two_ dwarves for such a task..."  Moments later, Legolas, Kili, and Gimli had disappeared from the crowd once more, not to be seen again until breakfast.

After Thranduil and Thorin had gone to bed, the dwarves played like monkeys on the Kings' gigantic throne, swinging and jumping around as they did mocking impressions of the Elf King.  "I'm Thranduil, and my dress is prettier than yours!!!" - "Not mine! I'm Thorin, and I copy Thranduil!" - "No, _I'm_ Thorin, and Thranduil copies _me!"_ They had found the experience to be somewhat cathartic, and the elves were thoroughly entertained by their jovial antics, until Bofur found himself being carried away by the tall blonde, who'd stolen his hat, along with his heart.

Several couples (or groups) would sneak away for some alone time, before returning to the party, while others departed to a private chamber for the night, or simply stayed up, drinking, laughing and enjoying each other's company clear into the next day.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The afternoon sun shone brightly upon the Kingdom when Bofur finally emerged with Orelion.  They wore matching elvish robes of silvery-green, though Orelion still sported Bofur's hat, while the dwarf's head was clad in a platinum circlet.

"Oh, now _this_ is interesting..." said Thranduil as the elf and dwarf slowly approached the Kings.  Orelion bowed gracefully, then nervously began to ask his question.  

"Your Majesties, I would like to request the gift of immortality, for my beloved Bofur... Please, I shall do _anything_ to keep him with me!"

Just as the young elf had predicted, Thranduil scoffed and rolled his eyes.  Quietly, Orelion began to lead Bofur away from the throne to seek out one of the other elven Kings, in the hopes that one might be compassionate enough to grant them their wish.  But they did not get more than a step away, before Thranduil sighed "Before we get started, I must ask, is there anyone _else_ who would like to claim a dwarf?"

"I would," said a deep voice from behind the crowd.  Dwalin stepped forward, with his arm around Ori and stood boldly in front of Thranduil, not having the slightest clue what might be involved in such a process.

"Ugh, _fine_..." said Thranduil, as if he were indulging a group of bratty children in an extra helping of dessert.

Thorin started to feel a bit squeamish at the thought of having to share his husband with so many others, even if it was for the best of reasons.  But before the Dwarf King could say anything, Thranduil had unlatched the golden brooch from the collar of his own cloak, and used it to pierce through the pad of his index finger.  Quickly, he brought forth three crystal chalices of wine, and let one drop of blood fall into each glass.  "Cheers," said the Elf King, as he held up his own drink, grinning brightly at Thorin.

Bofur, Dwalin and Ori each cautiously took a small sip from their respective goblets, causing the three dwarves' ears to point up at the tips within less than a second.

"WAIT A MINUTE!!!" shouted Kili as he and Fili both jolted up from their seats around the lunch table. 

Thorin was equally baffled, stammering "That's _it?!?_   You mean... you never had to...me... My _NEPHEWS!!!"_

"And you told us it wouldn't work unless-" started Fili, before Thranduil cut him off with a loud bellow of haughty chuckles, whilst raising his glass once more, and saying "Well, I suppose that's just the nature of _Kings!!!"_

"I'll show _you_ the nature of Kings!" growled Thorin as he grabbed Thranduil by his long hair and pulled him down for a deeply passionate kiss, the likes of which, rapidly spread like wild fire, to every loving couple within the palace.

 

The holiday and all it's glorious laughter lasted for another two weeks, until it was time, once again for the visitors to leave the forest for the rest of the year.  Bofur stayed in Greenwood with Orelion, while the rest of the dwarves went back to the mountains.  Dozens of young elves traded places to see what life was like in other Kingdoms, thus re-enforcing their alliances ever more-so.

Soon, four seasons had passed, and they were all reunited in the woodland realm to celebrate all over again.  

Each year, there were more and more amazing stories to tell, which continued on throughout the decades, until a hundred years had passed in seemingly the blink of an eye.  

Not wanting to push his luck, Thorin finally had to inquire to Thranduil "How is it we've not had to mourn the passing of any of the elder dwarves?"

The Elf King simply smiled, and said, upon raising his glass "A party wouldn't be a party, without _everyone,_ now would it?"

With that, Balin, Oin, Gloin, Gimli, Bifur, Bombur, Dori and Nori all removed the hair, and filigree cuffs, which covered the tips of their pointed ears, as they began to mercilessly tease Thorin for not noticing sooner.

As the vast collection of immortals cheered, the evening sky suddenly began to explode with bright, colorful bursts of fiery mandalas.  The crowds of elves and dwarves were all mesmerized, as Bilbo squeezed Elrond's hand, while trying to hold back his child-like tears of overwhelming happiness.  

A few minutes of dazzling pyrotechnics later, the long-lost, grey wizard appeared on the grand balcony in front of all six Kings.  "Well now, what's a party, without fireworks?!" beckoned Gandalf as he smiled, and winked at the Hobbit King.

 

                                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~ The End ~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All questions and comments are most welcome. I PROMISE to reply to anyone who takes the time out of their busy day to let me know what they think of my silly, little story! Thanks for reading!!! : )  
> Please be sure to stick around for part two!!!


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